Dream On
by Siriusly Amused
Summary: When Harry dies to save them, Ron and Hermione are so shocked that their friends and family feel the need to place a charm on them that makes them forget all about the wizarding world, forcing them to live as Muggles and forget Harry and each other.
1. Prologue

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **I've been wanting to write an 'all grown up' fic for a very long time. As a matter of fact, I wrote this prologue several months ago. According to my previous AN, it was at midnight and I had finals the next day. I couldn't think of an actual plot for it, so I had just set it aside until today when I got a brain fart for it. I wouldn't exactly call this a 'happy' fic, but at the same time, it's not depressing either and will probably have a few chuckles in it--most likely end well too. Definitely a Ron/Hermione fic.

**Disclaimer: **I do not now, never have, and never will own the Harry Potter universe. I do, however, own a rather spiffy CoS poster signed by the cast and JK Rowling herself. Likewise, I do not now, never have and never will own the lyrics that I post at the beginning of the chapter. Don't get pissy with me I know you don't want us posting lyrics; however, I will only post one or two lines, I will credit, and the rest of the chapter will be my own words for my own story.

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Prologue  
_You and me, I can see us dying…are we? -'Don't Speak' by No Doubt_

He had her hand grasped firmly in his own as they ran down the dimly lit Privet Drive. The street was filled with both Death Eaters and innocent Muggles who had mistakenly left their homes to investigate the commotion coming from Number 4. The two teenagers had their wands drawn and grasped tightly in their hands as they shot past the thoughtless slaughter of innocent people and tried to get closer to their best friend and worst enemy. They could see his house; it looked quiet and undisturbed by the war that took place around it.

She let out a bloodcurdling scream as one of the Muggles, who had seen her wand and mistaken her for a Death Eater, grabbed her around her neck and began to choke her. Her eyes widened and stared into the eyes of her attacker as he continued to prohibit her of oxygen. His eyes were filled with both immense fear and incredible hate as he called her obscenities under his breath.

"Get off of her, you bastard!" her red headed companion shouted as he forcefully knocked the man unconscious. She took a rasping breath and began to cough uncontrollably as air made its way back into her lungs. Strong arms steadied her as she hunched over and tried to regain her breath. She rested her head upon his chest and grabbed fistfuls of his T-shirt as her cloudy mind began to clear. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, removing one of his hands so that he could deflect a stray curse with his wand.

She stood up and looked into his blue eyes, finding the strength in them to nod her head yes. "We have to keep going; Harry needs us," she stated, releasing his T-shirt and grabbing his hand once more.

The duo took off, running faster than they ever had before until they reached the front door of their destination. The door swung open so fast when they approached it that the doorknob probably made a hole in the wall . They ran inside and found three people huddling in fear on the steps. The woman raised a shaky finger to the living room and the duo turned on their heels in an instant to come face to face with their worst nightmare: Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort stood facing each other, their wands pointed at one another's hearts.

"Harry!" the girl shouted, distracting the boy and dark lord.

Voldemort sneered when he saw the two teenagers standing in the doorway. Slowly, the dark lord pointed his wand at them and said two of the most fearsome words in the universe.

"No!" Harry Potter cried out, flinging himself in front of his friends. The green light hit Harry squarely in the chest and The Boy Who Lived was dead before he hit the floor.

For a moment, time stood still as everyone processed what had just taken place; they all stared at Harry's lifeless form in shock before Voldemort issued a cold chuckle that escalated into manic laughter.

Her face flushed with anger and her hands clenched and unclenched themselves as she glared at the hated leader. Beside her her companion did the same, and in a split second they were rushing toward Voldemort, their hands outstretched, both intending to strangle the evil wizard to death.

Voldemort's guard was down and he was shocked when he felt four hands around his neck. He was even more shocked when he felt an intense burning sensation spread from their hands throughout his body. His laughter turned into shrieks of pain as his own body burned to ash.

The two teenagers felt the pain as well, but neither one wanted to let go; their anger was too great. Finally, they released him when they could no longer stand the pain and both teens fell to the floor, barely hanging on to consciousness. Breathing deeply, the girl's hazy vision turned to the boy laying next to her. He seemed to be feeling as much pain and exhaustion as she. Meeting her gaze, the boy wrapped a protective arm around her and with the last of his strength pulled her closer to him. She felt his heart beating weakly against her own before she too lost consciousness.

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**End Author's Note: **Not bad for a prologue, eh? I was going to wait a bitlonger to post this but I just started school this week and I could use some cheering up. Reviews alwaysmake me happy. And if you're feeling the need to point out that it's Harry that has to kill Voldemort, in this fic, I'm explaining it as: Harry did kill Voldemort, by placing the charm on Ron and Hermione, he killed him. Does that make sense? I hope so. Normally I ramble in these things, but I can't think of what to say in this one except this fic is the reason why Hogwarts High II has slow updates. I'm currently on the 4th chapter with this fic! Go me! Chapter one will be posted next week. Most probably next Wednesday. Chapter two will be a week after, and so on and so forth until I either finish the story or get a bout of writer's block and run out of chapters. I hope you enjoy it. I want some Mountain Dew.


	2. Chapter 1

**Dream On  
**_Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note:** I'm hungry. And I know that I said that I wouldn't update this until next week, but I did get a pretty nice number of reviews for the prologue, plus, I have a busy weekend ahead of me where I may not get a chance to get online much, so come Sunday night, it will be a nice surprise to see some more reviews in my inbox. After this, I'm going to try really, really hard to put a bit more time between updates because I'm still not completely finished with Chapter 4 of this fic and if I keep updating this after 2 days, I'll run out of chapters to post. Did I mention that I'm hungry?

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything.

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**Chapter One  
**_We're not the same, we're different tonight…Tonight so bright…Tonight. -'Tonight, tonight' by The Smashing Pumpkins_

Bill Weasley gazed down at his younger brother and sighed. Eighteen-year-old Ron Weasley was still comatose as was his friend, Hermione. They were alive, but lifeless. It was ripping everyone apart to see them that way.

"We should be grateful, shouldn't we?" came a soft, female voice to Bill's right. He turned around to find his sister, Ginny, gazing at Ron and Hermione sadly. Her brown eyes raised to meet her eldest brother's. "I mean, when we found them, we thought they were dead. We should be happy that they're alive and that they at least have a chance."

Bill nodded. He had been on Privet Drive during the battle. After awhile, most of the Deatheaters had been killed and those who survived fled in fear. Then everyone's eyes turned toward Number 4. They were all aware that the final battle between Harry and Voldemort had taken place in that house, but no one knew what the outcome was. Bill was the first to enter the house and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the limp bodies strewn across the living room floor. Two of them, Ron and Hermione, laid next to a big pile of ash.

Bill was confused until the Muggle woman Bill recognized as Harry's aunt explained what had happened. Upon hearing that Harry had died to save Ron and Hermione, and that the two surviving teens had attempted to strangle the dark lord, hope rose in Bill's chest. Crossing the living room in two steps, Bill reached down and felt for a pulse on his brother's neck. When he found one, he was overwhelmed with happiness. He hadn't lost another brother.

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley?"

Bill was forced out of his memories by a high-pitched voice. Turning and looking slightly downward, Bill found Professor Flitwick gazing up at him.

"Professor," Bill greeted. Next to him, Ginny attempted to give the kindly teacher a smile but was unable to.

"Once your other brother joins us, I would like to discuss a form of treatment for Ron. I have already discussed it with Ms. Granger's parents and they have already agreed to it."

Bill was confused. "You need our approval?" he asked his former teacher. Flitwick nodded and launched off into an explanation.

"The procedure I have planned is very tricky, especially for Ron. We could lose him. Normally I would ask the parents but seeing as yours are currently missing…" Flitwick trailed off.

Bill nodded as Ginny choked back a cry. Just then, the door to the hospital wing burst open and another red-head joined the room.

"Is he alright?" Fred asked apprehensively, his blue eyes shooting from Bill, to Ginny, to Ron.

Bill shrugged. "He's alive."

Fred's shoulders visibly relaxed as he blew out a breath of air. "Thank Merlin," the 20-year-old whispered, coming to his brother's bedside.

"Well, now that we have everyone here," Flitwick started. He paused briefly when he noticed the profound sadness that suddenly filled the room with the mention of 'everyone' being there. The seven Weasley children were down to four, one of them being comatose. Both parents were missing. That was hardly 'everyone'. "I can now discuss what I have in mind for treating Mr. Weasley."

The three Weasley's turned their attention to their former teacher; all of them were a bit tense over what they might hear.

"We can all agree that Ron and Hermione have been through a lot over the years," Flitwick stated. The others nodded in agreement. "The reason why they are in the state that they are currently in," Flitwick waved a hand at the two unconscious bodies, "is because their minds are having trouble processing everything. They will wake sometime soon, and when they do they will not be the same. I think it's safe to say that they will both fall into a horrible depression that could very well last them the rest of their life."

Ginny issued a choked sob and Fred put a reassuring arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly and running his hand up and down her upper arm. Bill looked away from his former teacher and ran a hand over his face, his fingers brushing the grotesque scars that he received the night he fought Greyback.

"We're all depressed," Bill whispered.

"Yes, I realize that," Flitwick said kindly, "and Madame Pomfrey fully intends on giving each of you some potions to help ease the pain, and also requests that the three of you will show up for some counseling sessions with her. You'd be surprised how talking can make one feel better."

"We don't need therapy," Bill stated plainly. "Do we?" he turned to his two younger siblings. Ginny glanced to the floor and whispered that she would like some counseling sessions, and Fred looked torn. His pride would not allow him to admit that he needed to vent, but the loss of losing family, his twin included, weighed so heavily on his shoulders that the sensible part of him told him to swallow his pride. Casting his eyes to the side so as to not look at Bill, Fred muttered that if Ginny wanted counseling sessions, he would go with her for support. Bill sighed and returned his attention to Flitwick.

"Okay, so we could use a little counseling. So is that the treatment for Ron as well?"

"Well…no," Flitwick replied, wringing his hands and looking apologetic. "Ron has gone through a lot more than you three have--not that you three haven't been through a lot," he added hastily. "Ron has lost everything you have: brothers, parents, friends. You have to admit, though, that he has gone through a lot more. He has been fighting alongside Harry since he was eleven. He has endured so much more. He has to live with the knowledge that Harry died to save him, as well as deal with Harry's death. And then there's also…" Flitwick trailed off again, looking away from the three Weasleys.

"There's also what?" Bill asked.

Flitwick sighed. "Well, Ron and Hermione killed Voldemort, didn't they?" he asked. "Harry put the same charm on them that his mother used on him ages ago. When Ron and Hermione touched Voldemort, Voldemort couldn't stand it. Ron and Hermione are…well, they're…"

"They're what?"

"Celebrities."

There was a resounding silence in the room as the three Weasleys processed this information.

"It'll be Harry all over again," Ginny said at last, brushing Fred's arm off of her shoulder and pacing the room frantically. "The public won't leave them alone. The press will have a heyday with their depression and pain!" Fred swore loudly and Bill ran his hands through his hair.

"So what do you suggest?" Bill asked, turning back to Flitwick.

"We want to put them in the Muggle world to hide them from the public. And to help them cope with…everything--we want to use a very complicated charm that will make them," Flitwick paused and adverted his eyes, "forget."

"Forget what?" Ginny asked, eyeing her teacher suspiciously.

"Everything," Flitwick replied sadly. "Everything about the Wizarding World, about being a Wizard," the tiny man paused yet again, "about the family members and friends he has lost."

"No!" all three Weasleys said at once.

"Ron wouldn't want to forget," Ginny stated furiously. "We'll hide him in the Muggle World to keep him safe from prying eyes, but he's not forgetting."

"He wouldn't forget permanently," Flitwick stated. "His original memories will still be there, and because Ron has a strong mind, they will resurface, one by one when he's ready to deal with them. Until then, he will be under the impression that he's an ordinary Muggle. We'll give him new memories, you three will be included in it and your parents as well. We'll leave Charlie, Percy, and George out. He'll remember them later--when he's ready."

Bill, Fred, and Ginny sent one another looks.

"We're already going to perform this charm on Ms. Granger. Her parents have given us permission. We will replace the last seven years of her memory. She will forget about Ron. If we don't perform this charm on Ron, when he wakes up, he'll have to deal with losing Hermione on top of everything else."

There was a moment of silence, and then…

"You may perform the charm on Ron," Bill said in barely a whisper. Ginny and Fred nodded their agreement silently.

"Thank you," Flitwick squeaked. The little man raised his arms and ushered the three Weasleys out. "I'll need total concentration; I'll let you know when I'm done."

Fred, Ginny, and Bill turned just in time to see the heavy oak doors of the hospital wing close in their faces, leaving them alone with each other and their despair.

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**End Author's Note: **Hmm...yeah, got nothing to say here except that I hope you all enjoyed it and I promise that the story picks up soon. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note:** I feel as though I should be doing something more useful than sitting on my computer (not literally of course) but with 100 degree weather and a lack of wanting to do anything but write (and believe me, I've been trying all afternoon to find useful things to do), I'm afraid I have no choice. I also feel as though I should be working on Hogwarts High II or Snippets, or something else. But I just want to write this story. It is all very, very odd

**Disclaimer:** If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing this.

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**Chapter Two  
**_So I'll love whatever you become and forget the reckless things we've done… -'Falling Away With You' by Muse_

A rhythmic beeping pierced the air and brought his foggy mind back to consciousness. As the beeping persisted, other sounds joined in: the din of people talking, footsteps on a hard floor, birds chirping. Other senses were returning to him, he smelled the stench of chemicals and the sick, light was forcing its way through his closed eyelids, and he felt a dull and uncomfortable pain in his left inner arm as well as other parts of his body. Opening his eyes slightly, Ron Weasley stared at the white, tiled ceiling and processed that he was in a hospital. His mind remained foggy for a few more moments before the previous night surfaced from the jumbled mess.

He had been running late to see a movie with his sister and brother and had gotten into a slight accident. He winced and ran his right hand over his face. He was in for a thorough scolding from Ginny about driving safe. Ignoring the minor aches and pains that shot through his body, Ron slowly managed to sit up and nearly fell back down when he got a good look around his room.

Ginny was curled up asleep in the chair opposite his bed, her red hair falling over her soft features like a curtain. In the chair next to her was Bill. He was slouched so far down in the chair that it was a wonder he hadn't fallen out of it yet; his head rested on his own shoulder as he slept. And in the extra bed, meant for other patients, was Fred. He was sprawled out on it with his limbs hanging over the sides and his mouth wide open, drool dripping at the corner.

Something caught in Ron's throat. He had always been close with his siblings, but he hadn't expected them to stay the night at the hospital. It was only a minor accident after all; there was no real harm done, yet here they were. Ron suddenly looked down and did a quick double take of his injuries incase he had overlooked something serious, but there was only a few scrapes and bruises--and a massive headache.

Ron groaned and laid back down, putting a hand over his pounding head. He must have had a concussion. That would explain why he had to stay overnight at the hospital.

"You awake, Ron?" came a gruff voice to Ron's right.

"Yeah," Ron replied, keeping a hand over his eyes and wishing that the blinding pain in his head would subside. He heard a rustle before a groggy Fred appeared over him, looking him up and down with squinty eyes. Fred's hair stood on end, he had bags under his eyes, and his leather jacket was half off one shoulder.

"How you feeling?" Fred asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Head hurts." Ron replied gruffly. Like Fred, he was too tired to care about proper grammar.

Fred lowered his hands and nodded slowly, his eyes still squinty in the sunlight as they swept up and down Ron's form once again. The older male turned and began heading toward the door. "I'll get a healer," Fred said before stopping short and shaking his head distractedly. "I mean a--a doctor." A moment later, Fred was gone, but the conversation had apparently awoken the other two Weasleys. Ginny rushed to Ron's bedside and sat on a bit of free mattress next to Ron as she stroked his hair out of his face. Bill merely stood over the bed and grinned.

"Morning," Bill greeted brightly. "You have no idea how good it is to see you alive and well."

"Er…thanks," Ron replied awkwardly as Ginny continued to brush his hair with her fingertips, her eyes welling with tears.

Fred returned a few minutes later, talking in a hushed whisper with the doctor. Ron could have sworn that he heard the words, 'charm' and 'aftereffect' but figured he must have been hearing things. The doctor, a short, Asian man, smiled warmly at Ron as he approached the bed.

"Hello, I am Dr. Khai," the doctor informed, taking a pen out of his lab coat pocket. "Do you remember me?"

Ron's initial instinct was to say 'no' but then another memory forced its way through the murky abyss that was his brain.

"I broke my leg when I was fourteen," Ron announced slowly. He heard three collective gasps come from his siblings. "Fell off my bike," Ron elaborated. "You're the one who put my cast on." Next to him, Ginny emitted a choked sob. Bill and Fred gave her stern warning looks. Ron was greatly confused.

Dr. Khai was blank for a moment before breaking out in a wide grin. "Right, you are!" he exclaimed, reaching for a small flashlight and shining it into Ron's eyes. "Right, you are." Dr. Khai did a quick check up before giving Ron a strange medicine to help relieve the pain.

Once the doctor left, the four Weasley siblings looked from one to the other. "So…" Fred said slowly, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "What now?"

Ron spent another day in the hospital as numerous doctors came in and checked on him, talking with his siblings in whispers. Ron was outraged at the whispering. He was eighteen-years-old and had a right to hear everything about his condition, but when he brought the subject up with Bill, the older man brushed it off and changed topics. By the time Ron was released, he was greatly agitated.

"Treated me like a little boy," he muttered under his breath as he jammed his pajamas into the schoolbag that Ginny had brought from home. He was interrupted from his mutterings by a soft knock on the door.

"You decent?" came Ginny's voice.

"Yeah," Ron replied, sitting upon the bed and forcing his trainers on his feet roughly.

Ginny entered and smiled at her brother. "You ready to go? Bill just managed to pry Fred away from the vending machine."

Ron smirked and pulled the schoolbag onto a shoulder while he stood. "Fred's sudden fascination with vending machines makes no sense." Ron left the room with Ginny right behind him. They met up with Bill and Fred in the hallway. The two older red-heads were talking avidly about a television show they had watched the night before. Ron rolled his eyes and quickened his pace to put some distance between himself and his siblings. They had been acting strange ever since his accident. It was as if they never used a vending machine or watched television before.

"Oof! Oh, I'm sorry."

Ron took a step back and rubbed his side. He had just rounded a corner and ran into a girl with bushy hair and bandages similar to his own. The girl's parents stood behind her, frozen, their eyes wide and staring at Ron, their mouths agape. Ron brought his eyes back to the girl who was continuing to apologize. He offered her a smile.

"No, no, my fault," Ron replied. "I should have been watching where I was going."

A gasp behind Ron signaled his sibling's arrival. Glancing behind himself, Ron saw that all three of them were staring at the girl with similar expressions that the girl's parents were gracing him with. Was the whole world going mad?

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" the girl asked, bringing Ron to turn back to her.

Ron smiled again. "No. Did I hurt you?" he asked, eyeing her bandages.

"No," the girl replied, forcing a smile. Her eyes kept lingering over Ron's shoulder; she seemed disturbed by his siblings' reactions toward her.

"Well, have a nice day then," Ron said brightly, sidestepping the girl and continuing onward to the elevator. He jabbed the down button and waited for the doors to open. A moment later, his siblings joined him. Ginny was crying.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron asked gruffly, cocking a questioning eyebrow at his sister. Ginny's tears only multiplied at his words and tears began to form in Bill's and Fred's eyes as well.

"What the hell?" Ron asked as the elevator doors opened and the four of them ambled in. Bill, Fred, and Ginny were all crying freely now.

"Why are you crying?" Ron asked exasperatedly, but their sobs only multiplied. Yes, the world had gone mad.

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**End Author's Note: **I almost forgot to post this! -gasp- Then I realized that it's Wednesday which means that it's time to update. I think the ending of this chapter is a bit corny with them all crying. I debated about changing it, but I currently have a head cold. My head feels very heavy and I can't breathe out of my nose. I'm trying not to complain though. I don't feel like I have the right to complain when the people of New Orleans and other areas that have been hit by Katrina are suffering. They are in my thoughts. Anywho, this was kind of a boring chapter. After the performed the charm on Ron and Hermione, they brought them to a Muggle hospital so that when they woke up, they wouldn't be confused. Those of you who are fans of HH might have noticed Dr. Khai. This is his only appearance in this fic. And just so you know, he is actually a healer, playing a doctor in disguise. They're watching Ron and Hermione to make sure that the charm worked properly. Next chapter is the fun chapter where Ron and Hermione meet again. You don't get it till next week though...sorry. In the mean time, review. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note:** So I'm still under the weather. I've had this cough since mid to late July and snuffy nose since last week. The cough started out slight, a mild annoyance, then got really bad early/mid August and is now back to just slight. I didn't have any other symptoms until the beginning of last week when my nose and head kicked in. It was horrible! I'm glad to say that I'm, for the most part, much better than what I was last week, but I'm still not 100 better. Not even 90. 85 maybe. My mom says allergies, but I'm thinking sinus infection. I should have gone to the doctor ages ago, but I hate doctors. So, those of you who pray, please pray for me to get better. I can't write good stuff when I'm not feeling slightly like myself. In fic news: This is a long chapter (compared to the others) and chapter 4 is proving to be even longer. I'm not completely done with Chapter four, but I'd say I'm 80 done. ((What the hell is up with me and percents tonight?)) Hopefully I'll be able to finish it by next Wednesday. I can pretty much say that it will most likely be done on time as long as my cold/allergy/sinus infection/rare disease doesn't get worse. As a matter of fact, if I get a speedy recovery (wink, wink) I may be able to finish chapter five before it's deadline. Someone asked me if I had an estimate for how long this fic will be and my answer is that I honestly don't know. I don't really have it planed out, I just have ideas. I don't think that it will be a terribly long fic. 10-11 chapters at most, possibly less. Well enough of my rambling and complaining. You guys want to read--especially you R/Hr shippers because there's definitely some R/Hr in this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** Does anyone read disclaimers anyway?

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**Chapter Three  
**_All the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding…There are so many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how. -'Wonderwall' by Oasis_

**Seven Years Later:**

"We've been over this before, Ronald! I go to work earlier!"

"Yes, but I shower faster, Mione!"

"Would you please quit calling me 'Mione'? We've just met last week for goodness sake!"

Twenty five-year-old Ron Weasley winced and pressed his lips together in a frustrated manner. He did not understand why the nickname slipped so easily from his lips, but ever since he met the vociferous young woman, he found that he could not help himself to using the shortened form of her name, even though they weren't completely familiar with each other as of yet. Taking several calming breaths, for his temper was dangerously close to its boiling point, Ron mused over how the woman had came to live in his apartment.

Shortly after his minor car accident back when he was eighteen, Ron and Fred had moved out of Bill's home and into this apartment. The apartment was exceedingly nice thanks to Fred's booming business. The kitchen was a fairly good size, the living room quite comfy, and the apartment even had two bedrooms, though only one bathroom. Fred had insisted upon paying the whole rent himself seeing as Ron was putting himself through college. Ron had always been uneasy about his brother paying his rent, but Fred would continually refuse whatever money Ron handed him.

The two brothers lived quite peacefully in their apartment seeing as neither one of them cared much for cleanliness or rules. And then Fred, merely a month ago, announced that he was going to move in with his fiancé, Angelina, leaving Ron alone in the apartment. Ron had just gotten out of law school, and even though he had a job at a respectable firm, he was still paying off his loans and didn't fancy paying the rent in full. Nor did he fancy moving into a cheaper apartment. So Ron did the only thing he could think of: He put out an advertisement for a roommate.

The people who answered his advertisement were complete nutcases. Many of them dressed in unusual clothes that Ron could only describe as robes, and each of them possessed what seemed like a near fascination with Ron himself. Five of them shook his hand no less than twenty times.

Finally, Hermione Granger walked through his door and Ron had issued a sigh of relief. She was dressed in cream-colored pants, a light blue sweater, and a long, white winter coat. Her hair was pulled back into a sensible bun, but the harsh winds had released several wavy locks from the bobbing pins. Those locks fell around her flushed face elegantly as Hermione smiled at him and offered a hand.

Ron had swallowed a lump in his throat and pondered whether taking this woman in was a good idea or not. He only grew more dubious when he accepted her hand and felt a slight electrical shock upon his fingertips. A shock that quickly shot up his arm and sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

Hermione wasn't what he considered to be his type, but at the same time, he could not help but feel drawn to her in a way that he had never known. There was just something about her, something familiar and warm. Something that made him feel as though nothing bad could happen to him ever again just as long as she was at his side.

Hermione, it appeared, was thinking something along the same lines as well. She was staring at Ron as he was staring at her, a small smile on her face, her chestnut brown eyes round and shining bright.

After a moment, or two or three, Ron had snapped out of his trance and asked her for her coat. She blinked rapidly, obviously coming out of her own trance, before smiling widely and taking off her coat. Ron set the garment neatly on the back of an armchair and asked her if she wanted some tea. Hermione had accepted gratefully, mentioning something about the chilly, November weather.

Their talk of the weather quickly and smoothly turned to talk of the economy, which manifested into talk of their jobs, which flowed over into coworkers, friends, and family. Finally, when Ron noticed that all that was left of the sun was a thin, gold band behind the city skyline, he began to ask some of the questions he had interviewed with the other appliers.

Like Ron, Hermione had a respectable job (a lab assistant), but she was still paying off her loans and did not wish to move into a cheaper apartment on the rougher side of town. Hermione's history seemed fine. She definitely didn't seem like the raving, murdering lunatic type. The only things that bothered Ron were her attention to detail and rules (he knew that if he let her in, he would find himself having to clean up his messes), and the fact that every time he looked at her, he felt a pleasant, yet shocking, lurch in his stomach. But she was the only one who answered his advertisement who hadn't shown up in robes or seemed to be Ron-a-holic, so Hermione became his roommate.

They ran into problems on the first morning, seeing as they both needed to shower at the same time and neither of them felt much like waking up earlier. The kitchen, which had once felt spacious to Ron, suddenly seemed cramped with them both in it, making their breakfasts and bumping into one another every time they turned around. Ron secretly enjoyed the bumping into one another part, though he wouldn't admit it to Hermione. He would merely mumble a curt apology and continue on with what he was doing.

Ron tried to keep the place clean, but it was never clean enough for Hermione's taste and she was constantly nagging him that the couch was not a place to put ties and plates covered with last night's supper.

Though the arguments grew more and more frequent, Ron couldn't find it in himself to grow tired of Hermione. In actuality, he found himself starting more and more arguments purposefully, just so he could see the passion in her eyes when she yelled at him…

"Ron? Earth to Ron!" Hermione was snapping her fingers in front of Ron's dazed face. Ron shook his head and realized that he and Hermione were still standing outside of the bathroom in their bathrobes, getting nowhere with their argument.

"You can have it first," Ron said at last, adverting his eyes from the collar of Hermione's bathrobe and staring pointedly at the wall behind her.

Hermione blinked, her mouth agape. "Thank you," she said at last, entering the bathroom and closing the door in Ron's face. Ron stared at the door until he heard the water run. Turning in frustration, he returned to his room and threw some pants, a shirt, and a tie on, not caring that he looked slightly scruffy. He couldn't stay around the apartment and listen to the shower run. It was putting inappropriate thoughts into his head.

**.x.**

Ginny Weasley tipped her chin down slightly so that her scarf would cover more of her face and protect it from the bitter wind. She crossed the busy street briskly, eyeing the popular café on the corner and wanting to reach it's warmth and food as quickly as she could. A young man grinned at her and opened the door for her once she reached the café. Ginny thanked him before walking over to a table where three red-headed men sat.

"There you are, Gin!" Bill greeted brightly, looking up from his soup. "We were starting to wonder if you were going to make it!"

"Yeah," piped in Fred through a mouthful of bread, "as you can see, we've taken the liberty of ordering without you."

Ginny finished removing her coat, gloves, and scarf and smirked at her brothers while she sat down. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked, signaling the waiter over and ordering a bowl of spinach soup, French bread, and a cup of tea.

"Because you know us too well," her last brother, Ron, answered. Ginny smiled at him and playfully punched his arm.

"Busy day, Gin?" Bill inquired, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Not really," Ginny replied as her food was placed before her. "I was just cornered by a coworker on my way out to lunch. He wants to have dinner with me this weekend and simply won't take no for an answer." Ginny glanced up to see both Fred and Bill giving her worried stares; stares that she knew meant that they'll have a talk with her later. Ron, on the other hand, seemed frustrated with her.

"Is this the same bloke who asked you to see a movie last week?" he asked. He even stopped his eating to ask it which is saying a lot for Ron.

"What if he is?" Ginny shot back, testily.

"This poor guy is obviously smitten with you, Ginny! Why don't you give him a chance. One date and if you don't like him, you can call it off and go back to avoiding him."

Ginny gritted her teeth and stared at her soup. "I just don't feel much like dating," she replied.

"You know, Gin your lack of dating makes our job," Ron continued, indicating himself and their brothers, "terribly easy. Now, I'm not saying I want you to be…" he trailed off, "a you know, but that shouldn't dissuade you from dating completely. Your last boyfriend was ages ago and he lasted," Ron paused and chewed on his bread for a moment, deep in thought, "a month. Come to think of that, I've never known you to be really serious with a guy."

Ginny kept her eyes on her soup. She clutched her spoon so tightly that she was sure her knuckles were white. She wanted to scream or cry but knew that she couldn't. It wasn't Ron's fault that he didn't remember Harry.

"So, Ron, how's that new roommate turning out?" Fred asked, noticing Ginny's predicament. "He moved in last week, yeah?"

"Yes, _she _did," Ron replied, putting a certain amount of emphasis on the word 'she'.

Bill and Fred both broke out in grins.

"It's a she?" Fred asked, giddily.

"Yes, it's a she, what about it?" Ron asked, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink.

"Is she a hottie?" Fred inquired.

"Well, she's pretty, that's for sure, but she's kind of the bookworm type," Ron replied. Ginny saw Fred and Bill exchange glances. Ron went on. "But she's the most normal person who answered my ad. All the others dressed weird and seemed entranced by me."

Fred and Bill really exchanged glances that time. They had been afraid that Ron putting his name in the newspaper would attract local witches and wizards who revered him as they once did Harry.

"What's her name?" Ginny asked, trying to ignore the possibility of Ron having stalkers.

"Hermione Granger," Ron replied.

Fred spat out his hot chocolate, right in Ginny's face.

"Thank you, Fred. That's just what I needed," Ginny said sarcastically, wiping the milk from her face with her napkin. She didn't blame her brother for spitting out his beverage though. She was sure that had she been drinking, she would have spat it out as well. Her mind was reeling.

_Ron and Hermione are living together. Ron and Hermione are living together._

Ron, thankfully, didn't see Fred's behavior as odd. Instead, he was glancing at his watch and frowning. "Shit," he said as Ginny reappeared from her napkin. "I've got to get back to work. Who's turn is it to pay?" he asked, glancing around at his siblings while he pulled on his coat and gloves.

"Mine," Fred replied, raising a finger.

"Excellent," Ron commented, throwing down a few notes for a tip. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!" And with a wave of his hand, Ron turned and left the café.

"Well, this is interesting," Fred said after a few minutes of silence. "Ron and Hermione found their way back to each other. You think their memories will come back now?"

"I don't know," answered Bill, shaking his head slightly. "It's been seven years. When Flitwick first performed the charm, I thought it would only be a year or two before he got his memories back. It could take ages for them to remember."

Ginny sighed and finished up her lunch, noticing that Bill was looking downtrodden and that Fred had a mischievous glint in his eyes that Ginny had not seen since before George's death. Bill was the next to leave, saying that he needed to return to the bank before the goblins got angry. Ginny was about to get up as well and leave, but Fred kicked her under the table and gave her a pointed look. She stayed where she was, telling Bill that she wanted to finish her tea before she left. Once Bill was out of the café, Fred leaned in closer to Ginny, the glint still in his blue eyes.

"What do you say we jolt their memories back?" he asked her, a smirk playing across his lips.

Ginny returned the smirk. "What do you have in mind?"

**.x.**

Ron winced into his pillow. It was undoubtedly late at night; he had been in a very deep sleep, but something had drawn him out of his slumber. A tapping sound. It sounded again, a bit louder this time. Ron distinguished it as a knock on his bedroom door, but he couldn't, for the life of him, think of why someone would be knocking on his door late at night. It sounded again. This time much louder and more rapidly.

Groaning, Ron threw his covers back and stood, walking toward the door groggily. Hermione, her eyes round and frightened, stood outside of it. Ron furrowed his brow in confusion and leaned on his doorframe for support incase he fell back to sleep.

"Hermione, what the hell?" he asked in a low voice.

"Shh!" Hermione whispered, bringing a finger to her lips. "Ron…I…I heard a noise!"

Ron greatly wanted to reply with, 'Yeah, I heard a noise too and it turned out to just be an insane woman banging on my door,' but managed to stop himself. "A noise?" he asked instead, stifling a yawn and hoping to God that it wasn't something stupid like a mouse.

"It was a loud crack, kind of like a gun going off," Hermione replied, in a frantic whisper. "I told myself it was just my imagination, but then I heard it again! Ron, it sounded exactly like a gun!"

"We live in a safe neighborhood, Mione," Ron reasoned.

"You can never be certain!" Hermione replied, not bothering to scold Ron for using a nickname. Ron figured that waking a guy up in the middle of the night to talk about noises in the hallway whilst clad in your pajamas was enough familiarity for Hermione to allow the use of a nickname. "Could you please just…check the apartment?" Hermione asked, gazing at Ron imploringly.

Ron's first instinct was to complain, but then he caught Hermione's eye and felt himself melt. She looked sweet in her pajama bottoms and pink top, her hair falling around her face in a wild mess.

"Alright," Ron agreed, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to break through. Ron flicked on the hall light and made his way toward the living room, Hermione following very close behind. Ron immediately flicked the living room light on once he came into the room, his blue eyes scanning every corner for an intruder. When he saw none, he ventured into the room, glancing behind furniture and keeping his ears alert for any sound.

It was increasingly difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand, however, seeing as Hermione remained very close to him, her hand holding on to a bit of the fabric of the back of his shirt for what Ron assumed was reassurance. Coming close to the armchair in the corner, Ron felt something brush his leg. His eyes shot downward at once, examining the space between the chair and the wall, but there was nothing there.

"What is it?" Hermione breathed, very close to Ron's ear.

"Nothing," Ron said at once, turning his head to find Hermione merely inches away from him. Ron swallowed and quickly turned back around, heading to the kitchen. Hermione's grasp upon his shirt remained and after a moment, Ron reached behind himself and took her hand into his. He turned the lights on in the kitchen and searched, keeping Hermione's hand in his own. He even looked out the windows, to make sure that there wasn't a fight taking place on the street.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione said at last, once Ron had deduced that all was well. "I heard a loud crack!"

CRACK!

Hermione immediately grabbed a hold of Ron, her body pressing against his as she exclaimed, "Exactly like that!"

"It came from the living room," Ron announced once his breathing calmed slightly. The red head immediately made his way back into the lightened living room, heading directly to the armchair in the corner. He pushed the chair aside and began looking for the culprit. He saw nothing, though he felt a slight breeze on his left side, as if someone was running past him. Hermione felt the breeze as well and buried her face into Ron's shoulder.

"Is this apartment haunted?" she asked in a whisper.

"Fred and I never noticed anything," Ron replied, trying to keep his voice level. "Wewe're notvery perceptive though." Hermione's face remained buried into his shoulder, but her hands lowered themselves so that her arms wrapped around his waist. Ron sucked in his breath. A part of him was telling him to breakaway from her; she was his roommate and it was inappropriate. Another part of him told him that it was perfectly natural to return the embrace. Torn between the feuding sides of his mind, Ron merely patted Hermione's linked hands on his stomach awkwardly.

That's when he saw it. Lying on the floor next to their feet was a picture of a boy. Breaking away from Hermione, Ron bent down and picked the picture up, examining it further. The boy had messy, black hair and looked to be in his young teen years: twelve, maybe thirteen. Ron couldn't see much of the boy's face for the boy had raised his hand to block the camera's view, as if he didn't want his picture taken.

"Yours?" Ron asked, handing the picture to Hermione who studied it.

"No," she replied softly, shaking her head. "Though," she paused, squinting her eyes in inspection, "he does look familiar."

Ron nodded in agreement, snatching the picture from Hermione and throwing it down upon the coffee table. "So you ready to go back to bed?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. She apparently wasn't ready. Sighing, Ron took her hand once again and led her out of the living room, turning out the lights on his way. He flicked the light off in the hallway as well and continued on toward their bedrooms. He paused when he reached them, his hand remaining linked with Hermione's. The young woman was eyeing her dark bedroom with uncertainty.

Holding his breath and keeping his hand laced with Hermione's, Ron took a step closer to his bedroom, indicating without words that Hermione was permitted to sleep with him if she wanted. Ron knew that it was forward of him. He and the girl hadn't gotten much time to talk since she moved in and they barely knew each other. He expected to get a slap, even though his intentions, for the most part, were innocent. He was shocked, however, when Hermione took a step closer to his bedroom as well…accepting the invitation.

**.x.**

Fred Weasley stood in the dark hallway of his brother's apartment, shrouded by the invisibility cloak that had once been Harry Potter's. He and Ginny hadn't meant for the duo to wake up from the sound of their Apparating into the apartment, but the 27-year-old wizard was now glad that they had.

Ron and Hermione's actions toward one another showed that they recognized a familiarity between them. It was that familiarity that delighted Fred. It meant that they were one step closer to remembering their past.

Fred had smiled broadly when Ron and Hermione entered the living room, Hermione holding onto Ron's shirt for comfort. Ginny, on the other hand, felt like she was intruding upon their privacy and had Disapparated from the apartment once the two went into the kitchen. Fred remained and watched with mild curiosity as Ron retuned right to the corner where he was hiding under the cloak and pushed the chair aside. Fred took the chance and rushed past his brother, dropping a picture of Harry Potter as he did so.

The original plan was to just plant the picture in their apartment for them to find. The picture was a Muggle one that Ginny had gotten from Colin. Fred's delight only increased when both his brother and Hermione admitted the boy looked familiar. And now the two were sharing a bedroom, possibly even a bed. Fred remained in the hallway, waiting until they fell back to sleep before Apparating home. He was beaming.

* * *

**End Author's Note:** I really feel weird--I hope I'm not dying. I currently have that thing where, if you take too deep of a breath, you have to cough. o.O My nose is slightly stuffy, but not really congested like it was last week. What the dell is wrong with me? Anywho, I'm really really interested to hear your thoughts about this chapter.I worked really hard on it and I really enjoyed writing it. Someone told me that a bit more detail/insight would be appreciated with this story and I tried to do just that in this chapter without telling you guys too much because you have imaginations and this fic is what you make of it. I do feel like I should explain the 'Harry was dead in a few sentences and Voldemort not long after' bit. I wanted to keep it short and almost bittersweet. Let's see, what else do I want to address? Oh, GrownUp!Ron/Hermione is fun to write. Please tell me what you think of them (and the other older characters) and what you think of their relationship. In the mean time, I'm going to concentrate on getting better.


	5. Chapter 4

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **So here it is, Chapter 4. It's damn long too. Took me forever and a day to write it. Anyway, not much to say here other than thanks to everyone who wished me to get better. I am feeling much better though still slightly sick. I also need to warn you guys that I haven't even started on Chapter 5 of this fic yet. Chapter 4 took me longer to complete than expected and I've been so amazingly busy lately. I am going to try my absolute hardest to keep the week deadline and have Chapter 5 up by next Wednesday (the 21 of September), but don't be too disappointed if it's not. Reviews might help. -wink, wink, nudge, nudge- I'm not one of those who pouts and says, 'I'm not updating until I have this many reviews!' but I think I got less than half my normal amount of reviews for this fic with the last chapter--which makes me wonder if you guys are still enjoying it--and if you're not, I'll probably continue writing it, but some of the fun will be taken out of it knowing that no one's interested. Which means that my updates will be slower. Which means that this could possibly become one of my many dead fics--probably not though. I'd say that I'm getting close to being halfway done with this fic already--or maybe a forth of the way done...I dunno, it depends if I keep making chapters this long or not.

**Disclaimer:** Cupcakes.

* * *

**Chapter Four  
**_And right now, all your dreams are waking up. - 'Honey and the Moon' by Joseph Arthur._

"And it's seven o'clock on this chilly Friday morning. Weather for today will be cold with a possible blizzard blowing in later this evening."

Hermione opened her eyes slowly as she felt Ron shift beside her. His comforting arm left her as he reached up to his nightstand to turn his alarm clock off. She concluded that Ron looked adorable in the morning with his hair ruffled and his eyes barely open as his fingers fumbled for his clock. Once the alarm was off and the announcer's voice silenced, Ron fell back down onto the pillow, his arm wrapping around Hermione once again.

"Morning," he grunted, his eyes closed as if he were about to fall back to sleep.

"Morning," Hermione replied, snuggling closer to him and playing with the fabric of his shirt. His scent surrounded and comforted her. She smiled into his shirt, remembering her dreams from the night before. They were both pleasant and odd. Odd only because she was a teenager in them. It was the summertime and she was at this home with a red-headed family. The boy from the picture they had found the night before was there too, though Hermione could not see his face clearly--it was blurred as if he were a felon on TV who wanted his identity to remain unknown.

"I had a dream about a red-headed family last night," Hermione announced, rousing Ron who had seemed to drift back off to that place between sleep and reality.

"Oh?" Ron replied absentmindedly, his eyes remaining closed though a slight smile shown on his face. "Was it mine?"

"Might have been," Hermione joked. "I think you were there," she added, recalling the red-headed boy who indeed looked like a younger Ron. "There was also a girl around our age."

"I do have a sister that's a year younger."

"And twin brothers?"

"Nope. Two brothers, but they're seven years apart."

"Anymore?"

"Nope."

"Well then it couldn't have been your family, because in addition to the twins, there was a bossy older brother and two grown brothers who were already out of the house but just visiting." Hermione laughed. "Like I would know what your family's like. I haven't met them."

"You got the sister right," Ron replied with a grin.

"Yeah, go me," Hermione said, giggling slightly. The two became silent after that. They were both looking at each other as if they just realized that they were in bed together. Hermione greatly wanted to ask Ron if he felt a connection between them, but she couldn't bring herself to. She was afraid that if she voiced it out loud, he would realize what he was doing and grow distant with her. She didn't want that.

"You can have the shower first," she stated. "You do shower faster and I can always eat breakfast while you're in the bathroom."

"You sure?" Ron asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

"Yeah," Hermione replied, following suit.

"Okay then." Ron stood from his bed and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Hermione in bed, scolding herself about wanting to follow him.

**.x.**

Fred looked up from his menu and waved his brother over to his booth. Both Bill and Ginny had said that they needed to work through their lunch hour that day so it was just Fred and Ron meeting up for lunch. Ron slid in across from Fred and nodded his hello quickly before picking up a menu. A minute later, the brothers ordered. Fred started some casual small talk as they waited for their food, but Ron seemed preoccupied. He continually tore up napkins, his right knee bouncing up and down impatiently. Fred was certain that something was wrong once the food arrived and Ron merely picked at it.

"What's up?" Fred asked at last, pushing his half-eaten hamburger away and staring at his younger brother.

"What makes you think something's up?" Ron asked distractedly.

Fred nodded at Ron's full plate.

Giving an exasperated sigh, Ron pushed his plate away and leaned in across the table. "It's Hermione," he explained.

"Your roommate?" Fred asked, though he knew perfectly well who Hermione was.

"Yeah," Ron continued. "We slept together last night."

Fred grinned broadly. "You dog!"

"Literally slept together," Ron clarified.

"You prude," Fred scolded. Ron glared at him.

"I feel connected to her," Ron added. "Like I've known her for ages or something. And there's…something else." Fred raised his eyebrows questioningly. Ron lowered his voice to a whisper. "You know my condition? Where, when I get angry enough, things happen? Things I can't explain?"

Fred nodded. The condition was what happened when a magical person went for long periods of time without using magic, thus letting the magic build up in them. Ron started displaying it a few months after the charm was set on him.

"Well," Ron continued, "last night, I had dreams of when we were younger. Only you guys had the condition too. And Mum and Dad were still alive, only…"

"Only what?" Fred pressed.

"They had…wands…or something. Fred, they could do magic! These dreams seem so real to me! I'm…" Ron ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm losing my mind."

Fred, his mouth dry, stared at his brother. It was working. Ron's memories were coming back. Whether it was because of Hermione's reentrance back into his life or the picture of Harry Fred had dropped in Ron's apartment the night before, Fred didn't know. All he knew was that the old Ron was coming back.

"Listen, I need to get back to work," Ron said suddenly, standing and shrugging on his coat. "If we're supposed to get this blizzard tonight, then Hermione and I will have to go grocery shopping before it gets here. We'll be locked in our apartment together for the entire weekend, God help us." Ron paused from putting his gloves on. "I should probably stop off at the drug store and buy some condoms just incase. Well," Ron turned on his heel and headed for the door, "later, George!" Ron took several more steps toward the door before he paused and turned around, a frustrated look on his face. "I mean, Fred," he clarified. "George! Where the hell did that come from?" And with that, Ron turned once more and headed out the door.

Fred felt his stomach twist into a knot at the sound of the name. For a long time after George's death, no one mentioned the name around him. Slowly, as the years passed, Fred accepted his brother's death and could once again speak of him without breaking down, but to hear it from Ron… Fred felt the all too familiar sensation of depression's icy fingers tickling the back of his neck. Shaking his head, Fred basically told depression to piss off. He pulled himself together and was about to leave when his cell phone rang.

Fred gazed at it curiously. He, Bill, and Ginny had gotten cell phones to appease Ron who thought they were odd for not having one, but the only person who ever called their phones was Ron. Glancing at the ID, Fred saw that it was Bill who was calling him.

"So you do know how to use a mobile," Fred greeted his brother pleasantly.

"Come to St. Mungo's. Now." Bill ordered.

"Is something wrong?" Fred asked, concerned.

"Just get here." Fred heard a click as Bill hung up. Wondering what was up, Fred left the restaurant and headed for the nearest deserted alley to Apparate.

**.x.**

Bill laughed outright as he watched his mother practically strangle Fred and smother him with kisses. The eldest Weasley had been at work when Neville, of all people, cornered him and announced breathlessly that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been found and were currently at St. Mungo's. Bill didn't believe him at first and had to be forced to go to the wizarding hospital. Once there, he was taken directly to his parents.

Being shocked was an understatement for Bill. His mouth hung wide open and his eyes blinked rapidly as he stared at his parents. Both had gone gray over the years and Mrs. Weasley was considerably thinner, but they were both alive and sitting up in their beds, smiling broadly at Bill who could only continue to stare.

"Well?" Mrs. Weasley had asked after a moment of silence. "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to come over here and give your dear old mum a hug?"

Bill continued to stand there, barely believing what he saw. "But…" he started, finding that his entire mouth had gone numb and refused to work properly. "But we thought…" He paused again, shaking his head, almost expecting them to fade away. "You're dead," he stated simply.

"No, but you will be if you don't come over here right this instant and give me a hug," Mrs. Weasley threatened playfully.

Bill closed his gaping mouth and shuffled over to his mother. He sat on the edge of her bed and gave her a tentative hug. When he pulled back, he could only whisper, "Seven years."

"Yes, it was quite a long time, wasn't it?" Mr. Weasley agreed, throwing his covers back and getting out of bed. Bill immediately rushed to his father as if he expected the older man to fall over. "Honestly, William, I'm not sick or weak. We're only here for observation. I think the Healers are just as surprised as you to see us alive and can't quite believe it."

Bill stood still as his father embraced him. His mind was reeling. They were alive? They were alright? He and the others accepted that they were dead after the first couple of years after their disappearance. If he remembered correctly, Ron was under the delusion that they died in a plane crash when he was 15. Flitwick had explained that he wanted it to be an old wound for Ron so that the boy could enter his adult life without being in mourning.

"Your hair's still long, honey," Mrs. Weasley commented from her bed when Bill remained silent. "What kind of example does that set for your children? By the way…do you have children, dear?"

Bill snapped out of his funk with his mother's words. Frustration boiled up in him and he turned on his parents fiercely.

"Wait just a minute here!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "I want to hear what happened to you two before I fill you in on what has been going on in your children's--and grandchildren's--lives."

Mrs. Weasley squeaked happily at the mention of grandchildren and clasped her hands together.

"Grandchildren?" Mr. Weasley asked in a stupor.

"You don't even get their names until you tell me why you left without telling us, where you've been, and what took you so damn long to come back to us. I'll have you know that I've been babysitting my siblings for seven very long years."

Mrs. Weasley smirked at her eldest son before launching into an explanation.

"We were sent to tail Lucius Malfoy once he got out of Azkaban," she explained. "We were told to tell no one of our whereabouts. We didn't like leaving you in the dark, dear, but it was a time of war and drastic measures were required. Anyway, we followed him back to some old, forgotten manor located in the middle of a forest in France."

"Unfortunately, Lucius spotted us," Arthur continued, interrupting his wife who glared at him. "The next thing we knew, we were locked in a prison cell in the manor's dungeon. He wanted us alive, however. He enjoyed coming down to taunt us."

Bill gritted his teeth. He very much wanted to whisper, 'Bastard,' under his breath, but held his tongue as Mr. Weasley went on.

"He didn't seem to be on either side. I think he realized that he would be killed if either side had gotten a hold of him, so they remained in hiding."

"They?" Bill asked, confused.

"Narcissa and Draco were with him, dear," Mrs. Weasley chimed in. "Draco can complain like nothing I've ever seen. He came down to us often to rattle on about how horrible his life was. Anyway, they kept us even after the war ended. They didn't give us any news on how the war ended, just that it did. They kept us--for company or their own amusement, I don't know. Then, a few weeks ago, Lucius died. We think it might be suicide; he was highly depressed at his failures. Draco let us go."

"Draco did what now?" Bill asked, not believing his ears.

"Let us go. He said because he was tired of feeding us and he didn't want our rotten corpses fouling up his property."

"And now we're here," Mr. Weasley concluded, spreading his arms to indicate the hospital.

"Now, get talking, Bill. When we left, George, Percy and Charlie had…" Mrs. Weasley choked upon the words and couldn't finish. After a moment, she collected herself. "The others?"

"Fred, Ron, and Ginny are all alive." Bill heard both of his parents issue huge sighs of relief. The eldest Weasley child bit his lower lip. How was he supposed to tell them about Ron?

"As a matter of fact," Bill went on hastily, "I'm going to call Fred and Ginny out of work to come here. They'd be pissed if I didn't contact them as soon as possible. Excuse me." And with that, Bill turned his back on his parents and went out into the hallway to call his sister and brother on their cell phones, just incase they were at lunch with Ron. A few minutes later, they were both standing in front of him, sending him inquisitive stares.

"Mum and Dad are alive," he stated plainly and watched with amusement as his siblings' faces slowly turned to shock. They rushed past him and into the room where they stared at their parents incredulously before engulfing them in hugs. After hugging and kissing her children nearly to death, Mrs. Weasley suddenly pulled both Ginny and Fred's left hands toward her and examined them. Fred chuckled.

"Not yet, Mum, but I'm engaged to Angelina."

Tears filled Mrs. Weasley's eyes as she pulled her son into yet another hug. Afterwards, she glanced at Ginny who blushed and looked down.

"No," Ginny stated simply.

Confusion clouded Mrs. Weasley features. "What about Harry, dear? I thought…"

"Mum, Harry died."

The words echoed around the small room. All three Weasley children stared at the ground somberly as their parents stared at them disbelievingly. The silence, which lasted for what seemed like an eternity, made the air seem thick.

"Dead?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He died killing Voldemort," Bill elaborated. "He sacrificed himself to save Ron and Hermione. He put that charm his mother had put on him when he was a baby on Ron and Hermione. They killed Voldemort by touching him."

There was another long silence as Mrs. Weasley stared pointedly at her children. "Why isn't Ron here?" she asked at last.

Bill, Fred, and Ginny exchanged looks. Bill sighed.

"Ron's currently under the delusion that you're dead," he explained.

"So force him to come here and prove him otherwise," Mrs. Weasley ordered.

"It's not that simple." Bill glanced at his siblings who nodded, encouraging him. "You see, after Ron killed Voldemort, he went into some severe shock. He was unconscious for days, as was Hermione. We were afraid that we'd lose them. Professor Flitwick suggested a charm that would make them forget everything. Hermione's parents agreed to it right away but we were skeptical. We eventually gave in because we figured that if Ron did wake up, losing Hermione on top of everything else would kill him."

"So Ron has amnesia?" Mr. Weasley asked, concerned.

"Much more complicated than that, Dad," Fred answered. "What Flitwick did was erase Ron's memories of being a Wizard and of the Magical world. Flitwick then gave Ron new memories--Muggle memories. See we had to hide him in the Muggle World because killing Voldemort escalated Ron to Harry's celebrity status. According to Ron, our family was just you guys and us. He doesn't remember Charlie, Percy, or George."

Mrs. Weasley let out a stifled sob at the pronouncement. Ginny placed a reassuring hand across her mothers' shoulders.

"Since you two were missing and we weren't sure if you'd ever come back, Flitwick gave Ron a memory that you two died in a plane crash when he was fifteen. Along with that memory is the memory of your funeral. So you see…to him, you really are dead."

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder.

"Eloquently put, dumbass," Bill stated, hitting Fred upside the head. "The good part of the charm," Bill continued, turning toward his parents, "is that Ron will eventually get all of his memories back. Time heals everything, you know."

"He's already getting his memories back," Fred stated cheerfully. Ginny and Bill turned toward him, shocked.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"He admitted to me at lunch today that he had a dream of when he was really young. He remembers you two routinely using magic around the house," Fred nodded toward his parents. "He--uh--he also called me George."

"You okay?" Ginny asked, placing a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder.

"Fine," Fred replied, smiling though his eyes looked dull.

"How long before his memories come back completely?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously. The three siblings shrugged and shook their heads.

"We'll have a talk with Flitwick about it later," Bill said. "If it took seven years just for Ron to start remembering, then I'd hate to hear how long until he's back to his old self. I hate not being able to use magic around him. He looked at me strangely the other week when I couldn't figure out how to use his microwave."

"Ron has a micro-whatsit?" Mr. Weasley asked, interested.

"Yes, Dad, Ron lives completely as a Muggle," Ginny replied, smiling. There was a short silence before…

"DID YOU HEAR THAT, MOLLY? WE HAVE A MUGGLE IN THE FAMILY!"

"Oh, Arthur, shut it," Mrs. Weasley snapped, though she was smiling. "Now, Bill, tell us about our grandchildren…"

**.x.**

Hermione found it hard to imagine that the evening had started out pleasant. Ron had met her outside of her workplace and together they had gone to the nearest grocery store to stock up on food for the weekend. By the time they had pulled into the parking lot, the sky was already darkening to the west, signaling that the storm was near. Fearing their time was short, Ron had introduced Hermione to what he called, 'Speed-Shopping.'

Speed-Shopping consisted of Ron running hazardously around the store, pushing the shopping cart in front of him and pausing only briefly to throw random objects in without much examination to make sure that the food in question was satisfactory. Hermione had rushed after him and had tried to slow him down, but he merely picked her up and placed her in the cart before continuing his shopping, throwing boxes of cereal and bottles of juice in with a flabbergasted Hermione.

For awhile, Hermione just sat in the cart feeling both shocked and embarrassed that she was a grown woman, still dressed in her work scrubs, and sitting in the back of a shopping cart like a child as her roommate rushed around the store, nearly running the elderly over in his haste.

She soon got over herself and began to laugh as Ron threw in canned goods. Before long, she was pointing out random items, causing Ron to change direction instantly to fetch a bag of cookies or a box of popcorn. Within ten minutes, they were in the long line for the checkout, flipping through magazines as they waited.

The wind was fierce and sleet was falling in sheets as they returned to their apartment building, their arms loaded with the grocery bags. Once inside the apartment, Ron cranked the heat up and closed the drapes to block out the bitter cold that was seeping in through the glass of the windows. He then kicked his shoes off, untucked his shirt and yanked off his tie as he headed into the kitchen to unload the bags and start dinner.

With her red-headed companion busy, Hermione went to her room to change out of her scrubs. She stared into her wardrobe, willing the perfect outfit to jump out at her. Her first choice of clothing was a pair of sweatpants and an overly large hoodie, but a small voice in the back of her brain told her to dress nicer. It was then that it hit her. She realized that her mind was already plotting out little flirtatious gestures: a smile here, a caress there. She was trying to make her roommate fall for her because she was already falling for him!

Hermione scolded herself and reached for the nearest pair of sweatpants, but she paused when her hand brushed a pair of jeans that looked particularly good on her. Her mind reeled.

She quickly grabbed the jeans and pulled them on, her reasoning being that it was time for her to start looking to settle down. She would flirt with Ron and if he wasn't interested, he wouldn't flirt back. If something did develop between them that led to marriage, then great. If it fell apart--she would just find a new apartment to live in. Simple as that.

With the jeans on, Hermione began her quest to find a suitable top. A sweater would be best for the chilly evening, but most of her sweaters, though very nice, weren't exactly what Hermione considered 'sexy'. She did have a few that she had bought for dates, but Hermione was unsure if she should wear them. She didn't want to seem desperate.

Something flashed in front of Hermione's mind while she pondered her predicament. It was a flash of her dream from the night before. The image, though Hermione was unsure of what it was exactly, told her that if she didn't wear something obvious, Ron would be forever oblivious to her. She didn't know why she had this sudden revelation about Ron, or even if it was right, but it helped her make up her mind. Taking a deep breath, Hermione reached out and grabbed one of her prettier sweaters.

It was a soft pink color, not one of Hermione's favorite colors, but it brought out the natural blush of her cheeks. It wasn't too tight, but it didn't conceal her curves either. The neckline was wide; it was fashioned to hang slightly off one shoulder, exposing it.

Hermione slipped the sweater on over her head, then reached back and pulled the hair band out of her wavy mane, letting the long locks fall freely. She then dipped down and glanced into her vanity mirror, rubbing the make-up from under her eyes. Once she decided that she looked presentable, she left her room and came to back to the kitchen to find Ron taking some garlic bread out of the oven.

"There you are," he greeted pleasantly. "Hey, be a dear and put this on the table," he added, handing her the platter of garlic bread without so much as looking at her.

Annoyance built up inside Hermione's chest. She marched over to the table and set the bread down as she settled into her chair. A few minutes past before Ron returned, placing a plate of spaghetti in front of her.

"Dig in," he said, grabbing his fork and hunching over his meal. Hermione glared at him for a few seconds, her arms and legs crossed as she surveyed him. Her anger eventually subsided. Guys hardly ever noticed slight changes in a girl's wardrobe and Ron hadn't known her long enough to realize that she was dressed especially nice that evening. Sighing reluctantly, her confidence for flirting gone, Hermione picked up her fork and began eating.

She was surprised that the food was especially good. The noodles were tender and the sauce had a spice thrown in that Hermione couldn't put her finger on. After awhile of sitting silently, listening to the gusty wind beating against the window, Ron started to make small talk and it wasn't long before they were bickering. They bickered over dessert. They bickered while they did the dishes. They bickered all the way into the living room, and they were bickering over which television show to watch when something happened. They were both standing, facing one another and shouting into each other's faces when the vase on the table behind Ron exploded, the shards flying every which way, silencing the feuding couple.

Hermione immediately snapped her mouth shut as her mind went through possible explanations she could tell Ron for the sudden occurrence. She was debating about telling him the truth and lying when Ron spoke, his voice soft and his eyes not meeting hers.

"I'm sorry. I probably should have told you before you moved in. Sometimes when I'm angry enough, things break or someone's hair changes color. Odd stuff that I can't explain."

"That can't be," Hermione whispered, her eyes wide with shock and her heart lifting with hope.

"I know it sounds crazy. My siblings call it my little problem. I've thought about telling a doctor before but…" Ron paused and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes finally finding Hermione's as he sent her an apologetic look. "I know you must think I'm strange…"

"I don't."

Ron made a sound as if he didn't believe her as he dropped his gaze down to his feet once more.

"It happens to me too," Hermione explained softly. "Ever since I was little. Whenever I felt a strong enough emotion…" she trailed off and indicated the broken lamp. Ron was staring at her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hermione immediately rushed into explanations but was cut off by Ron who strode across the distance between them in one step, took her into his arms and kissed her.

The kiss was passionate, but not deep or rough. He simply captured her lips with his own and let them linger, some how transferring to Hermione the message that he wanted her without forcing it upon her. Hermione felt herself grow lightheaded as he kissed her. After what seemed like the longest duration of her life, he pulled back. His hands remained on her waist, but he held her loosely incase she wanted to run. Hermione's lips tingled as she gazed up at Ron who was just staring at her, waiting to see what she would do.

Hermione continued to stare up at him, her hands resting lightly on his upper arms. Common sense told her to step away, but every other part of her was telling her to go for it. Her heart hammering in her chest, Hermione stood on her tip toes and tilted her head slightly, indicating to Ron that she didn't want him to stop.

Ron lowered his head and captured her lips once more. This kiss was slower and softer, as if he was committing the feeling of her lips to his memory. Or perhaps he was afraid that Hermione would change her mind and slap him.

Hermione's hands left their place on his arms and trailed down his chest lightly. When her hands reached his pants, Hermione hooked her fingers into the belt loops and gently pulled Ron closer to herself. Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione more tightly, pulling her body up against his own as his lips left hers to place a trail of kisses along her neck and bare shoulder. Hermione tilted her head back, giving him better access, a smile upon her lips. She barely even registered that Ron was slowly edging her over to the couch.

**.x.**

Fred had to quickly clasp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from calling out a teasing remark. He had been sitting at home earlier that evening, bored out of his mind and listening to the approaching blizzard. Angelina was away helping Ginny and Fleur make The Burrow more presentable for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's return home, leaving Fred to his own devises. After trying to behave himself for a good hour (a record), Fred got up and rummaged throughout his home for another picture of Harry Potter. The one Fred ended up choosing was taken the summer before the trio's sixth year. In the picture, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all smiling and waving after playing a game of Quidditch. Fred was certain that this magical photograph would really jumpstart his brother's memories.

With the picture in hand, Fred grabbed Harry's old invisibility cloak and Apparated into Ron's living room, barely realizing that it was still relatively early in the evening and that Ron and Hermione would most likely be in the living room. What they were doing in the living room, however, shocked Fred into forgetting about the picture.

They were intertwined on the couch with Ron lying on top of Hermione, one of his knees between her thighs and his arms on either side of her for support. They were both looking at the spot where Fred was standing, the noise from his Apparition having distracted them from each other.

After the initial shock wore off of them, Ron eased his way off of Hermione, his blue eyes fixated where Fred was standing under the cloak.

Fred smirked when he saw that his brother's work shirt was unbuttoned and his belt undone. Apparently what took seven years to develop the first time around only took seven nights this time.

Fred's smirk vanished as Ron stopped a mere few inches from where he stood. Ron's eyes bore into Fred, but Fred knew that his brother couldn't see him. There were so many things that Ron couldn't see, and all he had to do was reach out and…

"Ron."

Both red-headed males glanced at the young woman sitting on the couch, her elbows resting on her knees. A slight smile played across Hermione's lips as she gazed up at Ron.

"I don't think we should worry about that sound anymore," Hermione explained, getting up and walking closer to her roommate.

"What?" Ron asked, shocked.

Hermione shrugged. "It…sounds familiar. I don't know…I just don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Weren't you the one keeping me up the other night because you were worried about it?" Ron asked with a smirk.

Hermione's smile turned devious as she reached out and took a hold of Ron's opened shirt, leading him toward the hallway. "Well I'll make it up to you tonight," she replied playfully. "I'll still be keeping you up though."

Fred had to clasp his hand over his mouth once more. It took everything he had to keep himself from throwing the cloak off and making fun of his brother. Fred managed somehow and as soon as he heard the bedroom door close, he Apparated back to his own home where he then elapsed into a fit of manic laughter.

* * *

**End Author's Note:** Told you it was long, didn't I? There are a few things that I'm particularly proud of in this chapter--one of them being when Ron slipped and called Fred 'George'. That was also a bit sad too. I was like, "I'm such an evil person." Some of you may be wondering why the hell I suddenly brought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley back alive and well. The answer to that is this quote, "Did you hear that, Molly? We have a Muggle in the family." Somewhere when I was plotting this, I asked myself what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's reactions would be to Ron being 'Muggle' and that line just popped into my head and I just had to put it in. Do Mr. and Mrs. Weasley play a significant roll in this fic later? As of now, not really. But you never know with me. Lastly, I love the scene with Ron and Fred when Fred was under the invisibility cloack and Ron was peering at him, knowing that something was there but not being able to see it. Just like there's a whole wizarding world right there in front of Ron and he can't see it...yet. I was proud of that imagery. Also, I would like to point out the fact that both Ron and Hermione are remembering; however, Ron's remembering the time when he was little and Hermione is remembering her actual Hogwarts days. This will be important for the next chapter. Did you guys like the Ron/Hermione in this chapter? I always find it difficult to write romance because if you don't do it right, it turns out tacky. And if you think their relationship is moving too fast...there's a reason...two, actually. The first one is that they're 25, not 15. There's no pressure for them to wait months and months and months because they've both done it before. -gasp- The second reason is thatcanon Ron and Hermione are takingso longto snog that I'm growing frustrated and writing this to help me cope. Okay...I think that's all I wanted to say. I'm hungry and must search for food now. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **And I'm back...sorta. I would like to apologize a thousand times over for the lateness of this chapter. I have reasons, but they're unimportant. What's important is that this is a long chapter. Close to five thousand words, I believe. I would like to dedicate this chapter to my good friend, Kari, who not only forced me to sit down and write it but also let me bounce my ideas off of her and also gave me a few ideas. -glomps Kari- I would also like to make clear that this will not become a dead fic! I know I complained in one of my previous ANs about the lack of reviews, but that was because I was sick and wanted reviews to make me feel better but I only got half of the reviews that I got for the other chapters so I was like, "Well, life sucks!" I love this fic, and I love my reviewers and I intend to finish this.

**Disclaimer:** I like peanuts.

* * *

Chapter Five:  
_I'm the guy in the dream that you had last night… 'Uh Huh' by B2K_

_The 17-year-old girl walked into her family's living room to see that the TV was on and that her friend was silhouetted against the screen. It was late at night and the TV was the only light in the room._

_"Can't sleep?" the girl asked, causing her male friend to jump slightly from shock and turn around to look at her. He smiled upon seeing her in her pajamas, and he scooted over slightly so that she could join him on the floor._

_"Yeah," the boy replied._

_"Does my Muggle house make weird noises?" she asked playfully. The boy smiled._

_"It does, but that's not why I'm up. I sleep under the attic at home, you know. The ghoul likes to make weird noises too. I'm just worrying about Harry. Why are you up?"_

_"I'm worrying about Harry too. And I'm excited."_

_"You're excited?" the boy raised shocked eyebrows. "We're about to partake in what could very well be the most dangerous adventure of our lives and you're excited about it?"_

_"No," the girl stated simply. The boy knitted his brow in confusion, urging her without words to explain. "I'm excited because out of the nearly seven years that we've been friends, this is the first time you're staying at my house," she elaborated._

_"Thanks for inviting me, by the way," the boy stated, his blue eyes returning to the TV in front of him. "I think I should get used to Muggle appliances before we move in at Harry's. Don't want to make things bad for him with the Muggles just because I'm fascinated with the microwave."_

_The girl laughed softly. "Well, I don't think the Muggles will dare to do anything to him while we're there protecting him. We can use magic outside of school now and I'm sure that'll scare them enough to treat Harry nicely."_

_"True," the boy stated, leaning back on his elbows. His face suddenly turned more serious as he stared pointedly at the TV screen. "Why did your parents go to that convention? I mean…most parents don't leave their teenaged daughter home alone with a guy friend for the entire weekend. And they know that we're leaving for Harry's on Monday."_

_The girl shrugged. "They trust me," she stated simply, though the truth was that she was just as confused over their willingness to leave the two teenagers home alone as her companion was._

"_Okay," the boy replied, his eyes remaining on the TV. The two were silent though neither was paying much attention to the infomercial that was currently on._

_"Ron," the girl said suddenly, turning toward the boy laying next to her._

_"Hmm?" the boy, Ron, asked, his eyes breaking away from the screen to look at her._

_Before her brain could tell her otherwise, the girl leaned down, placed a hand upon the boy's cheek and brought her lips to his. After a few seconds, the girl pulled back slightly. Ron was gazing at her._

"_I've wanted to do that for a long time," the girl admitted. "And once we meet up with Harry, we may not…"_

_But the girl was cut off by Ron suddenly sitting up and capturing her lips with his own, his hand running through her hair. The girl sighed and relaxed, letting him wrap her in his arms. She couldn't believe that it was finally happening, and she couldn't believe that it was so wonderful. Her other kisses seemed so horrible next to the one she was currently experiencing. Krum was too gentle, as if he was afraid that he would scare her away. Cormac was too rough and had nearly choked her with his tongue. But this kiss was different. It was gentle but passionate, and it was doing something wonderful to her._

_Sighing once again, she adjusted herself onto Ron's lap, trailed her hands down his chest and slid them under his T-shirt to explore the skin underneath. Ron jumped suddenly at her touch and broke their kiss. He was panting slightly._

_"I think we should stop," he said rather quickly. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest; his voice had a husky edge to it that she had never heard before._

_"I don't want to," she whispered, leaning in for another kiss, but he only pulled away._

_"No, Hermione, I don't think you understand," Ron replied frantically. He adjusted himself slightly so that Hermione felt something firm brush her inner thigh. She gasped softly but she didn't move away. Ron caught her eye; he was looking at her seriously. He wasn't blushing. He wasn't going to apologize for it. "Hermione," he said, his gaze remaining completely serious, "we're alone for the night, we can use our wands without getting in trouble, and I know contraceptive charms. We should stop."_

_Hermione was silent for a moment as her mind ran a thousand thoughts through her head. Finally, she placed her hands upon Ron's chest, leaned down, and kissed him again._

_"I." Kiss. "Don't." Kiss. "Want to." Kiss. "Stop." She straightened slowly, bit her bottom lip slightly, and took off her top. She wasn't wearing a bra and she felt her cheeks burn as a desire to cover her chest with her arms crossed over her. She didn't give into it, however. Instead, she traced patterns on Ron's shirt with her hands._

_"You're quite sure, then?" Ron asked, his voice squeaking slightly._

_"Yes." Hermione was slowly lifting Ron's shirt up, and he helpfully raised his arms so that she could pull it over his head. Once he was free of his shirt, Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist once again and pulled her closer to him so that her chest was touching his. He began placing kisses upon her jaw line._

_"And you want to do it on your living room floor?" he asked between kisses._

_Hermione smiled mischievously. "Well," she stated before kissing Ron again. "We could Apparate to my bedroom."_

_"I don't have my license yet," Ron reasoned._

_"Then hold on to me," Hermione ordered, hoping to God that she had enough focus for what she was about to do._

_"As if I would ever let go," Ron replied with a smirk, and a moment later, the couple had disappeared from the living room floor and landed with a soft plop onto Hermione's bed._

**.X.**

Hermione's eyes shot open. Her pulse pounded in her ears as her mind frantically tried to make sense of everything. The wind continued to howl outside of the window, which was gray with the little morning light that had made its way through the blizzard. She and Ron were buried under a multitude of blankets to protect them from the cold. Ron was still asleep, snoring softly, his right arm wrapped around her waist. She brought her hand to interlace her fingers with his in an attempt to calm herself. She was getting a massive headache.

The dream. Was it a dream? It had seemed so real, so vivid. It didn't make any sense to her though. Why had she dreamed about her and Ron as teenagers? She hadn't known him as a teenager, though she congratulated her imagination; it did a very good job of recreating a teenaged Ron.

And who was the Harry that they spoke of? Hermione was quite certain that she had never befriended a guy name Harry. Why would she dream about having a friend named Harry as a teenager when she didn't?

And what was with the magic? A ghoul in the attic? Being able to use wands outside of school? Contraceptive charms?

That reminded Hermione that she needed to take her birth control pill. Especially after the night she spent with Ron. Sighing at the fact that she would have to leave the warm bed (and Ron's comforting embrace), Hermione threw her legs over the edge of the bed, found her underwear on the floor, put it on and reached for Ron's bath robe before heading over to the bathroom.

**.X.**

_"Come on, Ron. It'll be fun."_

_"It doesn't sound like fun."_

_"Well, fine. If you don't want to do it, you can just go play dolls with Ginny like some stupid little sissy boy."_

_"Sissy boy! Sissy boy! Ron's a big sissy boy!"_

_"Shut up! I'll do it."_

_"Knew you would. Now, we have to kneel facing one another and take each other's hand like this. Right. Now, George will stand over us with the wand."_

_"Is that Bill's wand?"_

_"What does it matter?"_

_"We're not allowed to steal Bill's wand. We're going to get into so much trouble! Remember when we turned Ginny's hair blue? I didn't get to eat sweets for a week!"_

_"Who are you? Percy? Just shut up before we decide to walk two miles and hang out with Cedric Diggory instead of you. George, if you will."_

_"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"_

_"Oh, hello Dad. We were just practicing a bit of…"_

_George wasn't able to finish his sentence for Arthur had strode across the room in two steps and knocked the wand from the twin's hand. Ron hurriedly dropped Fred's hand and scurried into a corner, watching as his father bellowed at the twins._

_"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!"_

_"What's going on, Dad?" a teenaged boy asked, poking his head into the twin's room._

_"William! How many times do I have to tell you to not leave your wand lying around where these two can get it? Pick it up and take Ron downstairs. I'll deal with you later."_

_Bill hastily did as he was told, picking up his wand and younger brother before hurrying out of the room._

_"Were they really going to kill me?" Ron asked as Bill carried him down the steps._

_"I'm sure they didn't realize what they were doing," Bill replied, though he was looking white. "Ginny's got some fairies in her room; why don't you go play with her?"_

_"But I don't want to play with Ginny and her dumb fairies!" Ron whined, but it was too late. His older brother had dropped him in their sister's room, which was indeed filled with fairies._

_"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "You're just in time! The fairies and I were going to have a tea party!"_

_"Joy," Ron said, scowling as he plopped himself down in front of the tea kit._

**.X.**

Ron Weasley opened his eyes, groaned and closed his eyes once again. He had a headache, a weird dream and Hermione was already out of bed, crushing his hopes of a good morning shag. His eyes suddenly shot open. She had left the bed without waking him! Did that mean that she regretted what happened the night before?

Ignoring his pounding head and the fact that it was twenty degrees colder outside of his bed than in it, Ron rummaged his floor for his boxers and jeans and rushed out of his room without bothering to find a shirt. He had to talk to Hermione. He had to know where they stood.

He found Hermione in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt as she placed some bacon onto a plate.

"Good morning!" she greeted brightly, turning the stove off and placing the frying pan in the sink before coming up to Ron and wrapping her arms around his waist. She placed a soft kiss on his shoulder and Ron sighed in relief at the gesture.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, pulling away slightly and giving Ron a concerned look. "You look rather pale."

"I'm fine," Ron replied hastily. "I just had a weird dream last night, that's all. But I'm better now."

"You are?" Hermione inquired, looking dubious.

"I'm with you, aren't I?" Ron answered. Hermione smiled and blushed slightly at the comment, making Ron's ears go pink. "What's for breakfast? I'm starving." Ron walked over to the table and sat down, digging into the bacon and eggs Hermione had made for him. Hermione sat down next to him, wrapping her hands around a warm cup of coffee.

"Ron?" she asked suddenly. "Did you happen to have a friend named Harry growing up?"

Ron paused, his hand extended in attempt to help himself to some more bacon. A shiver rippled down his spine, which he dismissed to being shirtless. "I don't think so," he stated slowly, though his brain was questioning himself. For some reason an image of a messy-haired boy popped into his mind. Had he known a Harry? Did they play rugby together or something? "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Hermione answered quickly, adverting her eyes back to her coffee.

Ron stopped his eating and looked at her. "I know what this is about," he stated seriously.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You want to know the guy you're shagging better."

Hermione smiled and seemed to sigh in relief. "That's it," she confirmed, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder.

Ron smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Well, I was born on a rainy Wednesday in March…"

**.X.**

Neville's eyes nearly doubled in size as he felt someone grab him around his waist. Turning around to investigate, he found himself face to face with Ginny Weasley, who was beaming at him.

"Morning, Neville," Ginny greeted brightly. "Where are you heading?"

Neville looked at her quizzically. He was sure that there was a law against being that chipper on a Monday morning.

"I'm going to work. Shouldn't you be doing the same?" Neville brushed a lock of Ginny's flaming red hair out of her face as she continued to smile at him.

"I told them that I was sick," Ginny admitted.

"You're obviously not," Neville observed.

"Shh," Ginny shushed, bringing a finger up to her lips. "I'm skipping out so I can go shopping in Muggle London for the perfect outfit."

"The perfect outfit for what?" Neville asked, continuing his trek down Diagon Alley to get to the herbology shop that he worked at.

Ginny skipped merrily beside him, holding on to his arm casually. "Ron and Hermione invited me over to their apartment for dinner," Ginny whispered in Neville's ear.

"That's nice," Neville said at first before stopping short and shouting out, "What!" He brought his head very close to Ginny's. "Are you talking about the same Ron and Hermione that I'm thinking about?"

Ginny smiled. "Yes. Remember when Ron put out an advertisement for a roommate?"

Neville nodded.

"Well, Hermione answered."

"Wow, so there is such a thing as fate," Neville commented.

"Yeah. And according to Fred, they're an item now."

"Already? It took them long enough the first time around! You'd think they'd spend the remainder of their twenties bickering at one another before shagging."

Ginny laughed. "That's not the best bit, though," she continued. Neville's eyes widened, urging her to go on. "I'm not sure about Hermione, but Ron's remembering bits and pieces of his childhood!"

Neville's jaw dropped as Ginny squealed with delight.

"Hey, Neville? Why don't you close the shop for the day and come shopping with me?" Ginny asked. "I know the last thing you'd want to do is hold clothes while I try on outfits, but I'll buy you lunch! It's just…I don't know if Hermione remembers anything, and if she doesn't then this will be like the first time we're meeting and I want to make a good impression."

Neville opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't form the words. True, shopping wasn't his most favorite activity in the world, but to spend the day with Ginny Weasley who was quite possibly the most beautiful witch he had ever seen…

"Neville?" Ginny was waving a hand in front of his glazed-over face.

"What? Oh! Well, how can I say no when you're offering to buy me lunch?"

**.X.**

Hermione Granger gazed quizzically at the test tubes on the table in front of her. She knew that she was supposed to do something with them, but she couldn't figure out what. She tried to recall her schooling, but when she did, she only thought of weird Latin words such as 'Lumos' and 'Wingardium Leviosa'.

"Hermione, are you alright?" her partner asked, gazing worriedly at the bushy-haired woman. Hermione shook her head and brought her hands to cover her face. What was going on with her? Why was her head hurting so much and why couldn't she remember simple chemistry that she had learned in high school?

"I think you should go home, Hermione," her partner continued. "You've obviously been working yourself too hard lately. Take some time off. As much as you need. I can handle things here."

"I couldn't possibly…"

"Hermione. You're no good to me when you're overworked like this. Take some time off." Her partner smiled and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Relax. See a movie. Shag that new boyfriend of yours. Then when you're feeling like yourself, come back."

Hermione continued to protest but soon found herself heading back to the apartment. She was shocked to find Ron home early, slaving away in the kitchen for his sister's arrival.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted, giving her a quick hug and kiss on the forehead. "Come home early just for my stupid sister?"

"They sent me home early. Said I was overworked and should take some time off," Hermione paused and smiled slyly. "And shag my boyfriend."

Ron smirked. "Should we tell Ginny to stay the hell away?"

Hermione froze at the name 'Ginny'. In her latest dreams, the younger, red-headed sister of teenaged Ron was named Ginny.

"No, I want to meet her!" Hermione said, turning away from Ron before he could distinguish the scared look on her face at the mention of the name. Ron didn't say anything though Hermione felt him looking at her turned back. "I'm going to…um…take a shower. Can you handle things in the kitchen for awhile?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Yeah. I've got the roast in the crock pot. Most of the vegetables are in there too. I was just making the salad."

"Great. Well, I'll hurry up in the bathroom so you can get in." Hermione's back was still toward Ron. There was an inexplicable tension between them. Hermione was afraid of what was happening and she didn't feel comfortable telling Ron about it, and therefore left Ron confused at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Don't bother. I'm not going to shower just for my sister. We used to play in mud; she's seen me at my messiest," Ron replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione laughed very softly and started heading towards the bathroom only to be stopped by Ron who had strode forward, grabbed her arm, and spun her around before kissing her. The kiss was unlike the other kisses. It wasn't passionate, but frantic--as if Ron was trying to hold on to her for dear life. It seemed like he knew something was going on with her. He just didn't know what.

Hermione broke the kiss and rested her forehead on his chest, her hands grabbing his shirt. The world was spinning dizzyingly around her.

**.X.**

Ron sighed and ran his hands through his flaming locks. Hermione had finished her shower and was now applying her make-up in the bathroom. She hadn't said a word to him since he kissed her, and he was worried over what was wrong with her. Did she want to break up with him? Move out of the apartment? Could he live without her?

Ron was interrupted in his musings by a knock on the door. He strode across the living room and opened the door, letting Ginny in. The young woman's long hair cascaded down her back in shiny waves, her cheeks were pink from the cold and stood out against her creamy complexion, and her eyes sparkled as she smiled at her brother.

"Hello, Ron," she greeted, hugging him and standing on tip toe to kiss his cheek. Ron, still in thought over Hermione's behavior, returned the hug half-heartedly before closing the door. Ginny was looking at him in a scrutinizing manner when he turned back around.

"What's wrong?" she asked, facing her brother and placing her hands upon her hips.

"Nothing," Ron mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Ginny scowled and looked as if she were going to press the matter, but her eyes quickly shot over Ron's shoulder and widened as she gasped softly. Ron turned and saw Hermione standing at the end of the hall. Her hair was tame in loose curls and she was dressed in a golden, long-sleeved dress.

Hermione also gasped upon seeing Ginny. The older woman's eyes were wide as she brought one hand up to cover her mouth and the other hand supported her by resting against the wall. Confused by the gesture, Ron turned back to Ginny who seemed to have regained control of herself. Her eyes were no longer wide and her mouth was no longer hanging open in shock. Ron did notice, however, that her eyes were glossy with what seemed to be tears.

"You must be the lovely Hermione that my brother keeps telling me about," Ginny greeted, beaming at Hermione and extending her hand.

Hermione brought a trembling hand to shake Ginny's. Ron gazed at his sister and girlfriend quizzically. This introduction wasn't going as he planned.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine?" he asked, breaking the silence (for Hermione continued to stare at Ginny as if she were seeing a ghost).

The trio moved into the dining room and the girls sat down at the table as Ron opened a bottle of wine and poured it into three glasses.

"So…Ginny," Hermione stated at last, seeming to get over her initial shock upon seeing Ron's sister. "Ron tells me that you're a journalist."

"Yes," Ginny replied before hastily adding: "And you're a lab assistant?" Hermione nodded. "That's wonderful," Ginny continued. "My friend, Neville, owns a plant shop and he likes to combine different plant extracts to make lotions and healing remedies."

"Is he the bloke that made me that tea when I had pneumonia last year?" Ron asked, joining the girls at the table with his own rather large glass of wine.

"Yep," Ginny replied, gazing down at her hands.

Ron turned toward Hermione. "The stuff tasted horrible, but I was cured within a few hours. It was a miracle, really. Just like magic."

Both Ginny and Hermione choked on their wine. Ron looked at them oddly before commenting on how they should probably start eating.

**.X.**

Ginny sighed as she gazed into Hermione's vanity mirror and reapplied her lipstick. After dinner, Ron had excused himself to use the bathroom, taking the latest sporting magazine with him, so Hermione had offered her room for Ginny to freshen up in.

"Excuse me, Ginny. Is _Star Wars: Episode Three _alright?" Hermione asked, standing in the doorway to her bedroom and gazing at Ginny curiously. Ginny had never heard of _Star Wars _before and was sure that starting on the third episode would only confuse her.

"Got the first one?" Ginny asked.

"_Episode Four_? Yeah, we have it. You know, I kind of feel like watching that one too. I'll go put it in."

Ginny blinked as Hermione returned to the living room. Four came before Three? Did Muggles know how to count? Sighing, Ginny shook her head and stood, intending to join Hermione in the living room but stopping short when her eye caught something on Hermione's dresser. It was the picture of Harry that she and Fred had left in their apartment on that fateful night--and it was framed.

Ginny's breath caught in her chest as she came closer to the dresser and picked the picture up, cradling it in her hands. The picture had been taken during her first year. Colin had taken so many pictures of Harry that year that he didn't mind giving a few of them to a love-sick Ginny.

Though Harry's hand was blocking his face in the picture, Ginny could see his scar and piercing green eyes clearly in her mind. How many times had she stared into those eyes? How many times had she rested her forehead against Harry's and felt the three-dimensional abrasion that made him famous?

Tears filled Ginny's eyes and her hands shook so violently that she dropped the picture, sending it crashing to the floor where the glass cracked open.

"Piss it!" Ginny cursed, taking her wand out of her pocket and muttering 'Repairo' under her breath.

"Ahh!"

Ginny turned suddenly to see Hermione, who must have heard the glass breaking, standing in the doorway, her eyes wide and fearful and her hands clasped over her mouth to smother another scream.

"Hermione, I can explain," Ginny said quickly, pocketing her wand and setting the picture back on Hermione's dresser. Ginny took a step closer to her friend, but Hermione frantically backed up into the wall. The gesture hurt Ginny. Her best friend was afraid of her. "Hermione, there's something I need to tell you."

"Don't!" Hermione choked. "I don't want to know. I just want it all to stop!"

"Want what to stop?" Ginny asked, wishing that she could calm her friend down somehow.

"All the weird things that are happening."

"Hermione, listen to me. They're not weird. They're perfectly normal."

"No!"

"Hermione, we're witches."

Ginny had barely finished the sentence when Hermione fainted, her limp body falling onto the floor with a resounding thud.

"What's going on in here?" Ron had rushed into the room, his eyes were flicking from Ginny to Hermione. He crouched down next to his girlfriend and checked for a pulse.

"She just fainted," Ginny informed, crouching next to her brother, tears falling from her eyes.

"Ginny, what happened?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

Ginny continued to cry. "I can't tell you, Ron. There are so many things that I want to tell you, but I can't! I just can't!" Ginny glanced down at her unconscious friend once more. "Take care of her," she whispered before rushing out of the room and apartment.

Ginny hurriedly pushed the elevator button in the hall, needing to get out of the building and wanting to talk to someone. But who? It would hurt her parents to know how scared and confused Ron and Hermione were. She couldn't go to Bill's, lest his young children overhear the conversation. God only knew what Fred and Angelina were doing. Ginny stepped into the elevator and stood there, pondering. Finally, Ginny Apparated, appearing outside of a small house, smoke issuing from the chimney.

"Ginny?" Neville had opened the door before she had even raised her fist to knock. Ginny immediately hugged Neville, burying her face into his shoulder. "Ginny, what's wrong?"

"I told Hermione that she's a witch," Ginny explained in a whisper.

Neville led her inside and closed the door before pulling back from her embrace and tilting her chin so that she would look at him.

"You what?" he asked softly.

"She saw me use magic!" Ginny explained, taking a step away from Neville and using her hands to emphasize her words. "I don't even know why I brought my wand. Habit, I guess. But she saw me and I couldn't bring myself to make her forget it. Her memory's been through enough." Ginny stopped as her voice cracked and tears streamed down her cheeks once more. "I'm scared, Neville. What if we lose them?"

"We won't," Neville replied firmly.

"But…"

"We won't," Neville repeated. The two stared at one another before Neville finally mentioned something about tea in the kitchen.

"Neville?"

Neville paused from entering the kitchen and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For always being there."

Neville smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Come on now, before the tea gets cold."

* * *

**End Author's Note: **Okay, now I'm gonna babble about the chapter. First, I want to thank Mariah for providing me with the movie they should watch...though they didn't. She actually said 'Return of the Jedi' but I hate ewoks... Now...to the real babbling about the chapter. The little R/Hr scene/dream/memory that we started out with... In my head, Ron and Hermione don't join Harry at the Dursley's right off. Harry would want Hermione to spend at least a few days with her parents seeing as she hardly ever sees them. And Hermione asked Ron to come along because she wanted her parents to really get to know Ron. As for her parents leaving...that was just me getting rid of them. I really don't believe that Mr. and Mrs. Granger would leave Ron and Hermione alone for a weekend (unless R and Hr are married). Why did R/Hr go all the way? Because I'm a frustrated R/Hr shipper who can only vent through fandom. I think Canon!R/Hr will either tease us all throughout Book 7 until they finally hook up at the end...or they'll be like, "OMG, we might die doing this! Let's shag like bunnies!" I've had other things that I wanted to ramble about, but I forgot them. What did you guys think of this chapter?


	7. Chapter 6

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **Will this chapter ever get written?

**Disclaimer: **My knee hurts.

* * *

Chapter Six:  
_But when we wake, It's all been erased, And so it seems, Only in dreams… 'Only in Dreams' by Weezer_

At first, Ginny did not recognize the sound that was drawing her out of her slumber. The shrill beeps cut through the quiet morning air like a dagger and pricked at her eardrums until she was forced back into consciousness. Groaning (for the beeping had yet to stop), Ginny opened her eyes and was confused for a few moments as to why she was cuddled up against Neville on his couch; then she remembered the horrible night before and how she had come to Neville for comfort and the two of them had fallen asleep after a long night of talking about Hermione, Ron, and most painfully, Harry.

"What the bloody hell is that noise?" Neville grunted hoarsely, shifting his weight and causing Ginny to sit up straighter.

"It's my mobile--a Muggle device used for contacting people. Ron made me get one awhile ago," Ginny explained, waiting for Neville to get comfortable once again so she could rest her head upon his shoulder. Once Neville's squirming had subsided and her head rested comfortably against him, Ginny took out her still ringing cell phone. "I wonder what he wants," she wondered aloud, gazing at the screen as Ron's number flashed at her with every ring.

"I suppose you should find out then," Neville replied softly. His arm awkwardly wrapped around Ginny's shoulders, his hand resting upon her upper arm as if he did not know where else to put it.

"I suppose," Ginny mumbled glumly. She did not want to deal with her brother's anger that early in the morning, but felt as though she had no other choice. She had selfishly left Ron in quite a predicament the night before without even explaining what was going on to him. Shifting herself so that her legs were over Neville's knees and her chest close to his, Ginny pressed 'talk' and brought the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Ron," she said at last.

"About bloody time!" Ron yelled back at her. "The phone's been ringing for nearly five bloody minutes!"

"Ron, don't exaggerate. And I was sleeping."

"Well I'm glad someone got some sleep last night," Ron replied vindictively. "I was up all night worrying about Hermione! She hasn't regained consciousness yet! She's tossing, turning, mumbling Latin in her sleep, and she has a fever! I can't wake her no matter what I do! So tell me what the hell is going on Ginny!"

Ginny remained silent and bit her lip worriedly while her brown eyes caught Neville's and the two stared at one another for a brief moment. Seven years ago, Flitwick had told them that the charm he was casting upon Ron and Hermione was complex and that there was a strong chance of them losing their minds permanently. At first, Ginny had worried, but then, as the years passed and Ron was still the same ol' Ron (minus the magic and memories), Ginny had been drawn into a false sense of security. It was amazing how that security vanished within the course of a few hours.

"Alright, Ron," Ginny replied finally. "I'll tell you, but I can't tell you over the phone. Meet me at my apartment in three hours."

"Three hours? Ginny, this can't…"

"I need to figure something out first. Bye, Ron." And with that, Ginny hung up on her brother and turned her phone off so that he couldn't call back.

For the longest while both Ginny and Neville were silent. Finally, Ginny mumbled that she needed to see Flitwick, her voice cracking as if she hadn't used it in while.

"I'll go with you," Neville said at once.

"It'll be the second day in a row that you're skipping out of work to go somewhere with me," Ginny replied softly, her eyes wide and tear-rimmed as she gazed at Neville.

"I know," Neville said. His hand left Ginny's arm to stroke her hair, his fingers interlacing with her long waves.

"Nev…" Ginny whispered, closing her eyes and leaning in. For a split second, Ginny could have sworn that Neville leaned in as well, but the next thing she knew he was brushing her legs off of his knees so that he could stand.

"We should get going if we want to catch Flitwick before classes start," Neville said suddenly, bringing his hands to run themselves through his longish curls.

Ginny felt her chest tighten with the painful stab of rejection and she found herself biting on her lower lip to ignore the pain.

"Right," Ginny replied shakily. "Can I use your bathroom to freshen up in before we go?" She stood from the couch but did not make eye contact with Neville. She was afraid that if she did, she would either break down crying or lash out in frustration.

She saw Neville nod in her peripheral vision and she stepped forward in the bathroom's direction, keeping her eyes upon the floor. She hadn't gone more than a few steps when Neville's arm shot out and gently stopped her from going farther by wrapping around her waist. He tentatively leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You know I love you," Neville whispered close to her ear, "but we can't do this right now."

Ginny nodded, squeezed Neville's hand and continued on her way to the bathroom. She knew that she should be focusing on Ron and Hermione, but that didn't stop her heart from beating ten times too fast.

**.X.**

Flitwick was more than surprised to see two former students sitting in his office Tuesday morning. The charms professor had just finished an early breakfast when one of his students relayed a message that Ginny Weasley was in his office and wanted to see him. Upon entering his office, Flitwick was shocked to see that Neville Longbottom was sitting in a chair next two Ginny. The two young adults smiled at their former teacher.

"Ginny! Neville! What a wonderful surprise!" Flitwick greeted, scuttling up his pile of books so that he could see them over his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He saw Ginny and Neville exchange a glance before Ginny scooted forward on her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Sir, Ron and Hermione are remembering."

Flitwick nodded. "Yes, your brother, Bill, has been down to see me last week; he told me that Ron has been getting flashbacks from his early childhood. Be patient Ms. Weasley. It'll take your brother some time to remember everything."

"It's not Ron I'm worried about, sir," Ginny replied evenly. "At least not at the moment."

Flitwick cocked his head to the side inquisitively. "Ms. Granger?" Ginny nodded and launched into a story about how she and her brother, Fred, had attempted to jumpstart Ron and Hermione's memories by placing a picture of Harry Potter in their apartment. She then told him about how she had dinner with Ron and Hermione the night before and that Hermione had acted scared around her--as if Hermione recognized her. And finally, Ginny admitted that she had accidentally used magic in front of Hermione and that she had told Hermione that she was a witch, which caused Hermione to faint.

"And I received a call from Ron this morning saying that Hermione hasn't regained consciousness and that she's thrashing about and has a fever," Ginny finished, her eyes looking pleadingly at Flitwick.

The small man was silent for a few moments as he processed everything that Ginny had told him. Finally, he spoke:

"What Hermione is going through is normal; it's the final stage of the charm. I admit that it is happening much faster than what I expected, but your display of magic, as well as Hermione being exceptionally bright, probably induced it. When she wakes up, she'll be confused, but remember everything. All we have to worry about is that she does wake up. Some people never get past this stage; they remain trapped in their horrible memories forever."

Ginny took the news well in Flitwick's opinion. She nodded her head solemnly and said nothing for a moment.

"Sir, Ron's worried about Hermione. I told him that I'd explain what was going on to him. Is that alright? I don't think he remembers much yet, and he probably doesn't believe half of what he's remembering. Will telling him that he's a wizard screw up the charm?"

"You can tell him if you think it'll make you feel better, but he won't believe you. And if you do magic in front of him, he'll just think he's going insane. But I suppose you should try to placate him while Hermione's going through this difficult time; we don't want him calling in Muggle doctors."

Ginny nodded in understanding.

"Keep an eye on Ms. Granger," Flitwick continued, jumping down from his seat to see the two out. "If she's not awake by tomorrow evening," Flitwick paused, his hand on the door, "take her to St. Mungo's."

Ginny nodded sadly and sought out Neville's hand.

"I will sir, thank you," Ginny replied, exiting the door with Neville.

"Ginny," Flitwick called to their retreating backs. Ginny turned and gazed at him politely. "Ron and Hermione have really strong minds. I honestly believe that they will both make it out of this ordeal unscathed. They have been through worse after all," Flitwick assured, gazing warmly at Ginny.

A small smile lit Ginny's face. "Goodbye, Professor," she called out. Neville smiled and waved a hand before the two of them turned and continued on their way out.

**.X.**

Hermione's hands grasped the cool tile of the bathroom sink and shakily supported her as she raised her head, her face dripping with ice cold water. She met her reflection in the mirror and willed herself not to be sick again. Her skin was deathly pale and nearly translucent, the dark circles under her eyes standing out as though they were bruises. Her lips were chapped and bleeding, and her eyes were bloodshot and dull. Her hair, which was normally full and luxurious, hung limply around her face.

"What a night," she whispered only for the sake of hearing a voice, even if it was her own. Ron, it seemed, wasn't home.

_'What a past seven years,' _Hermione's brain corrected as she slowly sank back down to the floor, no longer able to support herself.

All night, Hermione had confronted her memories. They played in front of her mind's eye over and over again: the good, the bad, the normal, and the magical, right up to seeing Harry's dull, lifeless eyes staring at her during the final battle.

A sob echoed around the bathroom as Hermione cried fresh tears into her hands. Harry. How could she and Ron have forgotten about Harry? Why did they forget? What was going on? Was Ron remembering as well?

After what seemed like hours, Hermione's tears subsided and she managed to get up and walk to her room. She put some shoes on and grabbed her coat, telling herself that some fresh air would clear her head.

**.X.**

"Hey, are you going to pay for that?"

Fred handed the magazine that he had been reading over to the clerk without looking at him; instead, Fred's blue eyes remained locked upon the young woman who was staring at him, a small smile crossing her features as the winter sun cast a dim, golden glow upon her. Did she recognize him? Surely not; but Fred inched closer to the woman cautiously, his mouth and eyes wide with shock.

"Hermione?" he asked softly once he was close enough to her.

A genuine, though rather tired, smile broke across Hermione's face. "Fred," she greeted weakly.

Fred's face must have shown disbelief as a million questions raced through his brain: Does she remember him, or did Ron show her a picture of him which would explain her recognition of him without a proper introduction? Does she remember anything? Why does she look so tired?

Suddenly, Hermione took a step forward on the sidewalk and rested her head upon Fred's shoulder. Fred, still confused over what was happening, ignored the odd looks they got from passersby and wrapped his arms around her. She was trembling, as if she was having trouble supporting her own weight.

"I remember everything," Hermione whispered, answering Fred's unasked question. "I just don't know why I forgot it all in the first place."

Fred nodded and began leading her out of the busy street and into a deserted alleyway.

"Can you Apparate?" he asked softly once they were hidden behind a large dumpster.

Hermione thought a moment, her head still resting on his shoulder, before she shook her head no weakly.

"Alright, hold on to me then," Fred replied, tightening his grasp on the young woman as she wrapped her arms around his waist. A moment later, the two of them popped into Fred's kitchen. Fred directed Hermione to a nearby chair and sat her down before heading over to a small cauldron and kindling a fire under it, intent upon making a potion to give her some strength.

"What happened, Fred?" Hermione asked as Fred started adding the ingredients to the potion.

Fred took a deep breath before launching into the explanation, telling her about how she and Ron had gone catatonic and how Flitwick had suggested a charm to make them forget everything.

"We knew you guys wouldn't want to forget," Fred stated when Hermione opened her mouth to lecture. "We actually told Flitwick that he couldn't put the charm on Ron, but we had no say over you because we weren't your legal guardians and your parents wanted the charm done. They were scared, I think. Anyway, we consented to have the charm placed upon Ron after that because we knew he wouldn't be able to live without you."

"Wouldn't be able to live without me?" Hermione echoed.

Fred gazed at her seriously. "He loves you, Hermione." Hermione remained silent as Fred filled a small glass with the potion and handed it to her. Hermione gazed at it suspiciously, causing Fred to chuckle. "I didn't do anything to it," he assured, remembering the days when he would tempt Hermione into trying one of his inventions.

Hermione took the potion and sipped it as if it were coffee. Fred sat down in a chair next to Hermione and the two were silent for awhile, the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds.

"So what have you been doing for the past seven years, Fred?" Hermione asked after awhile. Fred was pleased to see that the potion was working; the circles were disappearing from under her eyes.

"Well Angelina and I are engaged."

Hermione's smile was genuine. "Congratulations."

Fred smiled back. "We expect you at the ceremony of course. Other than that, I've just been working at the shop."

"The joke shop?"

"What other shop would I work at?"

"I'm just surprised that you can work there without…" Hermione trailed off, her cheeks going red.

"George. You can say his name around me, Hermione."

"I'm sorry, Fred. I just thought that…"

"George would be a hard subject for me? He was at first," Fred admitted, dropping his eyes to his hands. "Right after he died, you know?" Hermione nodded understandingly. "But after the war ended," Fred continued, "I wanted to keep his memory alive, so I started talking about him all the time. I talked about him so much that people just got sick of it." Fred pause, his eyes staring out into space. When he spoke again, his voice was a soft whisper. "So I just stopped."

Hermione took one if his hands into her own. "You can talk about him all you want to me," she said, squeezing his hand slightly.

Fred offered her a small smile. "Ron's probably wondering where you are."

"I don't have enough strength to Apparate back."

Fred stood and spread his arms. "I'll take you," he said, smirking. "I think we need to hug after that heart to heart anyway."

A short laugh escaped Hermione lips as she stood and walked into Fred's embrace. "You're such a dork, Fred," she mentioned before the two disappeared from the kitchen.

**.X.**

Hermione kept her arms around Fred after they materialized in her bedroom. She was vaguely aware that the living room light was on and shining down the hall, but she didn't focus on it. She only breathed in Fred's now familiar scent and remembered all the times she had scolded him at school for testing his products on first years. She was so caught up in her musings that she was barely aware of angry stomps coming toward the room.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Fred let go of Hermione faster than she realized. She took a moment to regain her balance before turning around to see a livid Ron standing in the doorway. "Ron, I…"

"I can't believe you, Hermione! I worry sick about you all night! I even put up with my stupid sister and her stories about wizards and magic in an attempt to figure out what's wrong with you, and when I come back, you're gone. No note, mind you! And now I catch you with my own brother? Who's engaged, by the way."

"Ron, nothing's going on between me and Hermione," Fred explained, taking a step closer to his angry brother which only caused Ron to turn his frustration on him.

"How the hell do you know my girlfriend anyway, Fred? How long have you two been seeing each other behind my back?"

"For the love of God, Ron, Hermione and I were just hugging!" Fred yelled, casting his eyes to the ceiling in frustration. "And I know her because we grew up together!"

Hermione saw Ron's face go purple and she knew that nothing good would come of it.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" Ron asked heatedly. "Next you'll be spitting back the same 'You're a wizard, Ron' shit that Ginny gave me this afternoon!"

Hermione stepped forward urgently. "You _are _a wizard, Ron! Those weird dreams you've been having, they're memories!"

Ron looked at Hermione as though she was something disgusting under his shoe. The look twisted Hermione's stomach and she felt sick again. When Ron spoke, his voice was even and cold.

"You're mad."

Ron turned and headed toward the door. In a desperate attempt, Hermione reached out and grabbed Ron's arm.

"You have to believe me, Ron," Hermione whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You are a wizard. You went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You met me and Harry there. He was your best friend."

Ron slowly pried Hermione's fingers off of his arm. "I never had a friend named Harry," Ron stated softly before leaving the room. A moment later, the apartment door slammed.

Hermione and Fred were silent for what seemed like an eternity before Hermione turned to Fred, wiping her cheeks with shaky hands. "I can't stay here," she whispered pleadingly.

Fred took out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's closet where a suitcase opened and an assortment of clothes flew into it. "I'll take you home," Fred stated softly, summoning the packed suitcase to his hand.

"I can't face my parents right now," Hermione replied bitterly, thinking about how they had caused all of this in the first place.

Fred spread his arms once again, signaling Hermione to walk into them. "You know very well that that's not you're home," Fred said, wrapping his arms around Hermione and Disapparating, taking Hermione along for the ride. Hermione closed her eyes tightly as they Disapparated and she kept them closed once they popped back into existence. She heard collective gasps around her and felt Fred's embrace loosen slightly.

Opening her eyes, she turned slowly, still in Fred's arms, to see an assortment of red-heads sitting at a table. They were all staring at her as if the Prime Minister had just walked into their kitchen. Hermione breathed in the scent of The Burrow and offered Bill, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley a small smile.

She felt something flutter to life inside her chest as she gazed at her family members. Fred's arms left her waist and went up to brush Hermione's locks away from her face. Hermione's smile widened.

"I'm back."

* * *

**End Author's Note:** So everyone see GoF? Wasn't Neville/Ginny the cutest couple? I so totally called the pairing though... >.> I can tell you that the Neville/Ginny pairing is really fun to write and I'm looking forward to writing more of them in this fic, which is nearly finished. I want to apologize for how long this chapter took to get out (a little over a month which is good seeing as HHII hasn't been updated since like October or something). As you can probably guess, this chapter was very difficult to write. Well, I'm sleepy and I still need to update my bio so I'll cut this AN short. If you're happy and you know it, please review! -is a dork- 


	8. Chapter 7

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm afraid that I have a really short chapter for you today. -ducks- I know, I know... I made you wait...what was it? two months? three? for this and now I just give you a short chapter. Those of you who read my livejournal know how loaded down with homework and other stuff I am...and those of you who don't read my eljay now know as well. I'm just going through a really hectic time at the moment, but I wanted to give you guys something as a little thank you for waiting.

**Disclaimer: **I didn't proofread. -gasps-

Chapter Seven:  
_Remember, whatever, it seems like forever ago… 'Whatsername' by Green Day_

"How's my hair?"

Ginny looked up from peeling potatoes with her wand to see Neville standing in front of her, smoothing down his curls and looking at her inquiringly. She smiled at him and assured him that he looked very handsome. Neville returned her smile and scratched the back of his neck in an embarrassed fashion.

The two were in the Burrow's kitchen, fixing a family dinner. Ginny had invited Neville under the pretense that seeing him again would brighten Hermione's melancholy mood. This was partially true; Ginny was certain that seeing an old school friend again would make Hermione happy, and Neville himself wanted to see Hermione and welcome her back into the Wizarding World, but there was another reason for Neville's presence that night: Ginny wanted to see the interaction between Neville and her family. She had yet to tell anyone, even Hermione, of her and Neville's budding relationship. She was nervous over what their reaction would be to the pairing.

"Um, Ginny? I think the potato is good and peeled by now."

Ginny came out of her musings and blinked. Looking downward, she saw that she had been peeling the same potato for the past couple of minutes and barely had any left.

"Damn," Ginny cursed in a whisper, using her wand to send the over-peeled potato to the trash can. "I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing."

She was in the process of reaching for another potato when she felt Neville's arm wrap gently around her waist. His cheek brushed against her hair as he lowered his head and asked softly if she wanted him to peel the potatoes. Ginny turned her head slightly and looked at Neville. A blush was forming on his visage and it looked as though it was taking all of his Gryffindor bravery to keep his arm around her.

Ginny turned so that her back was to the counter and wrapped her arms around Neville's neck, giving him a mischievous smile as she did so. Neville smiled briefly before lowering his head. He was very close to her when the door slammed shut.

"I'm back!" Hermione called out into the house as she entered the kitchen. Neville stepped away from Ginny very quickly.

Hermione was staring at them as if she wasn't sure of what she was seeing. Finally her eyes brightened and she smiled, exclaiming 'Neville!' loudly and rushing over to hug her long, lost friend. Neville took several steps backwards from her force, but once he regained his balance, he hugged her back just as exuberantly.

"Oh my gosh, Neville, I can't believe it's you!" Hermione cried, breaking apart from her friend and looking him up and down. "You look great!"

Neville's blush returned at the compliment. He mumbled a 'thank you' before switching the subject to how great Hermione looked. Several more compliments and hugs were exchanged between the two before Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen and ushered the three into the living room to catch up while she finished making the dinner. Ginny tried to persuade her mother to let her help, but the Weasley matriarch wouldn't hear of it; therefore, Ginny found herself walking into the living room where Hermione and Neville had already situated themselves on the couch.

Ginny joined them, sitting down next to Neville and linking her arm with his, a gesture that Hermione noticed. There was a poignant silence as Hermione stared at their linked arms.

"So, Mione, how did your boss react to your quitting?" Ginny asked, hoping that her clever friend would realize not to say anything about the gesture and to continue on as if everything was normal.

"Not so well," Hermione replied, adverting her eyes from the linked arms. "I feel so horrible about it. I didn't even offer two week's notice."

Ginny reached across Neville and patted Hermione's knee reassuringly.

"It's not your fault," she comforted. "It's not like you would be able to do anything seeing as half of your Muggle education has been forgotten."

Hermione nodded sadly. She looked as though she were on the verge of crying. Ginny sent a hectic glance at Neville, who suddenly looked frantic as he thought of what to say, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an answer.

"Lavender Brown got Botox."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she looked at Neville. "What?" she asked in a disbelieving whisper, a small smile playing across her features.

Neville's stance relaxed with Hermione's smile. "Yeah, she…uh…apparently thought she was looking a bit old, and magical remedies weren't helping apparently, so she decided to invest in that Muggle Botox."

"How did you find this out?" Hermione asked Neville between laughs.

"Well she reacted badly to the Botox and her face swelled up like a pomegranate. So she came to my shop to see if I could help her…"

**.X.**

"Are you sure I should be tagging along? I mean, he is kind of pissed at me at the moment."

Bill Weasley stopped and turned to face his younger brother. Fred's hands were jammed into the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders were hunched in an attempt to keep him warm from the bitter cold wind that was currently tousling his red locks.

"Don't tell me you're scared of Ron!" Bill exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well…he might punch me."

"As if you haven't taken a beating before," Bill said distractedly, turning around and heading toward the pub once more. "Just stop being such a baby, Fred, and help me talk sense into our kid brother."

"Ron has a nasty left hook," Fred mumbled behind Bill.

Bill turned around once again. "Nothing went on between you and Hermione, right?" he asked.

Fred's eyes doubled their size. "Good God, man, no!"

"Okay then. If he hits you, I'll hit him and a Weasley brother brawl will ensue and we'll get kicked out and maybe Ron will listen then."

Fred scowled and looked as though the last thing he wanted was a black eye and busted lip, but he ended up nodding and following Bill into the noisy pub. "Watch out for his left," Fred warned his brother in a whisper as the two scanned the crowd for Ron.

They found the youngest Weasley brother at a pool table. His hair was a rumpled mess and his work clothes were disheveled. A cigarette was between his lips and a half empty glass of beer was nearby. Bill had a sinking suspicion that it wasn't Ron's first beer of the evening.

Ron's eyes narrowed when he saw his brothers. He leaned against a nearby table, his pool stick in one hand while the other took the cigarette from his lips.

"What do you two want?" he asked, a cloud of smoke emitting from his mouth as he talked.

"We need to talk," Bill stated, his voice firm.

"So talk," Ron replied, taking another drag on his cigarette and leaning over the pool table, successfully launching the cue ball forward where it crashed with the eight ball and sent the latter into a corner pocket. There was a round of acclaim over Ron winning the game and several of his coworkers, who were watching, clapped Ron on the back.

"We need to talk privately," Bill elaborated.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of my mates," Ron replied, grinding his cigarette into an ashtray and taking a rather large gulp of beer.

Bill was taken aback. What he needed to say couldn't be said in front of a bunch of Muggles. He was about ready to continue coaxing Ron into leaving when Fred stepped forward and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of those around him. Ron looked at him inquisitively.

"I slept with your girlfriend," Fred announced in a carrying tone. The next thing Bill knew, all three of them were sitting on the curb, Ron sporting a black eye and Fred covering his nose with his hand, blood gushing between his fingers.

"Let me look at that," Bill ordered, turning toward Fred and prying his hands away. "It's broken," he informed Ron after looking the nose over.

Ron sighed and stood from the curb. "My car's across the street. I'll drive you guys to the hospital."

"No," Bill stated whilst helping Fred to his feet. "Just take us back to your apartment."

"Bill, he needs a doctor!" Ron argued.

"He'll be fine. Won't you, Fred?"

Fred made a pathetic whiney sound, but nodded none the less. Ron stared at both of his brothers as if they were insane, then took out his keys and walked to the car, exclaiming about how he needed to get out his family of nutters.

**.X.**

"There's something going on between you and Neville."

Ginny jumped at the voice, dropping the ice cream scoop as she did. She turned around and saw Hermione standing in the kitchen, smiling slightly.

"Keep your voice down, Mione!" Ginny scolded, glancing into the living room to make sure no one heard. Her parents, Fleur and Angelina were all laughing as Neville demonstrated a Muggle magic trick to Bill and Fleur's eldest child.

"Haven't told the family yet?" Hermione inquired, hopping up to sit on the counter.

Ginny shook her head.

"Well, they'll find out soon enough," Hermione continued, helping herself to some ice cream.

"You're not mad?" Ginny asked sheepishly.

"Why would I be mad, Gin?" Hermione's brow was knitted in confusion.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, casting her eyes downward.

"Is dead," Hermione finished. "He'd want you to be happy."

Ginny smiled and continued filling bowls with ice cream; moments later, Hermione was crying.

"Mione, what…?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Hermione whisper, wiping at her tears vehemently. "Harry was supposed to live. We were all supposed to go back to Hogwarts and have a normal year for once."

"I know," Ginny whispered. "It's unfair, but we have to move on, Hermione. Things will get better, you'll see."

Hermione made a strangled sound in her frustration. "How will things get better, Ginny? Harry's dead and Ron has forgotten everything."

"Ron will remember."

Hermione stared at Ginny angrily.

"He will remember," Ginny reassured, using her wand to levitate the bowls of ice cream into the living room. Hermione didn't follow, but stayed in the kitchen, deep in her thoughts.

**.X.**

"I'm telling you, he needs a bloody doctor!" Ron yelled as he entered his apartment, Bill and Fred stumbling in behind him.

"He does not," Bill stated, leading a still bleeding Fred into the kitchen. "I can fix this."

Ron, who was busy gathering towels to stifle Fred's bleeding, wheeled around to face his brothers, asking how Bill intended to fix a broken nose by himself. It was then that he saw Bill pull out what appeared to be an elaborately carved stick from his pocket and point it at Fred's nose.

A memory of when Ron was little and kneeling opposite of Fred with the same stick pointing at their linked hands flashed through Ron's mind. Suddenly, his head felt compressed, as if it were in a vice, and the pain was so intense that Ron could see nothing but flashes of light. He felt himself fall to the floor and heard the frantic yells of his brothers. They were telling him to hold on. Ron tried, but another spasm of pain shot through his head and then everything went black.

**End Author's Note: **So...there it is. I'm thinking only two or three more chapters left to this fic. I don't like the fic very much, but don't worry, I won't stop writing it. I do like the ending I have planned out for it though. And I think I was supposed to explain something here, but I can't remember what. Hmm...


	9. Chapter 8

**Dream On  
**_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note: **I LIVE! And so does this fic apparently.

**Disclaimer: **I'm hungry. Someone go fetch me some food.

* * *

Chapter Eight:  
_And you're right…I cannot feel a thing… 'Volumes' by Faker_

A warm breeze drifted in through the open window, playing with the wavy locks of Hermione's hair as she sat in an armchair and stared at her still unconscious boyfriend. It was late June – the eve of Harry's death was quickly approaching – and Ron had yet to return to her from his dreams.

When Ron had first fallen victim to his subconscious all those months ago, Hermione had been ecstatic; she was certain that it would take a mere few days for him to remember the entirety of his life seeing as it had taken her only one day to remember seven years; however, the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, and now Hermione found herself facing her first anniversary of Harry's death alone.

'_Well, not completely alone_,_'_ Hermione thought. She was living at The Burrow with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron was continually sleeping in his old room, and Ginny, Neville, Fred and the others were constantly visiting; however, despite their presence, Hermione could not help but feel alone. Harry and Ron had been her life for so long and now she had lost both.

Sighing dejectedly, Hermione stood and crossed over to Ron's sleeping form. "I'll be right back, Ron," she told him, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead before heading toward his bedroom door and descending the rickety steps of The Burrow.

"Ah, there you are, dear. I was just about to come and get you," Mrs. Weasley greeted as Hermione entered the kitchen. "Would you like juice or tea with your breakfast?"

"Tea, please," Hermione answered, sitting down at the table next to Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley handed Hermione a cup of tea, and Hermione thanked her and brought the rim of the cup to her lips while she reached for the _Daily Prophet_.

"Gah!" Hermione choked, her tea going down the wrong tube as she caught the front page headline. Mr. Weasley started hitting her on her back to subside her coughing. "What's this?!?" Hermione demanded once she was able to use her voice again. She pointed to the headline and stared at her surrogate parents in shock.

"Why, it looks like the Ministry is having a commemorative celebration for Harry this weekend," Mrs. Weasley answered, tilting her head to the side in order to read the headline. "AT HARRY'S GRAVE?" the older woman exclaimed suddenly.

"That's the last thing that Harry would want!" Hermione announced in outrage. Mr. Weasley had grabbed the paper from her and was now reading it fervently while Mrs. Weasley dashed to the fireplace, calling Ginny to her. A moment later, Ginny Apparated into the kitchen, tying the sash to her house robe as she did so; it looked as though they had gotten her out of bed.

"What's going on?" she asked sleepily.

Mrs. Weasley angrily snatched the offending newspaper away from her husband and brandished it in front of her daughter's face. Ginny glanced at it for a moment before muttering, "Oh."

"Oh?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Oh? That's all you can say to this?"

"They do it every year, Mum," Ginny explained. "At first we tried to stop them, but it's no use. The closest we've come is getting them to agree to stay a certain distance away from Harry's coffin."

"Coffin?" Hermione asked, confused.

Ginny glanced at her. "Yeah, Harry's not buried. His remains are in a black marble coffin that's on the grounds of Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded and stared blankly at her untouched breakfast, thinking hard.

"Ginny, do you still know that charm for changing hair color?" Hermione asked, glancing back up at her friend.

Ginny's brow knitted in confusion. "Yes. Why?"

"I want you to turn my hair red," Hermione explained. "And I'll need to find some sun glasses."

"Why on Earth…?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bewildered.

"I need to go to Madame Malkin's to find something appropriate to wear and I don't want people to recognize me. If anyone asks, Ginny, tell them I'm your cousin or something."

"But why, dear?" Mrs. Weasley pressed on.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm going to go to this commemorative celebration for Harry. Maybe the Ministry will listen to me."

The three Weasleys exchanged glances. "Are you sure about this, dear?"

Hermione nodded. "It's about time I paid my respects to Harry anyway."

There was silence as the three Weasleys looked at one another.

"Alright," Ginny stated, pulling out her wand.

**.X.**

Ron Weasley's eyes snapped open, yet even consciousness could not dispel the image of Harry's lifeless eyes from his mind. Panting and sweating profusely, Ron rolled onto his side and attempted to rid himself of the contents of his stomach to no avail. He was trapped; his nightmare became real. He was awake, and Harry was still dead, the very thought of which sent chills down Ron's spine.

Suddenly, Ron heard footsteps approaching. Frantically, he reached out his hand and searched for his wand, but he only received fistfuls of his sheets. A door opened.

"I know Arthur, but I was quite sure I heard something a minute ago."

"GET AWAY!" Ron yelled. He sat up frantically in bed as a dark figure approached him. As the figure inched closer to him, he pushed himself farther away. "I'M WARNING YOU! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"

"Arthur! Arthur, come quickly! He's awake!"

Suddenly the room was filled with light and Ron saw that the figure was a short, older woman with gray hair. Her smile was discomfortingly familiar.

"Mum?" Ron asked in all but a whisper, furrowing his brow in utter confusion. The woman smiled widely and leaned in closer to Ron just as a man – Arthur Weasley – entered the room. Ron pulled away, got out of bed and backed into the far wall of his bedroom, keeping his back to the wall as he eyed the two suspiciously. "You're dead," he stated simply.

Molly sent Ron a comforting smile and shook her head. "No, love, we're alive."

"You two disappeared in October!"

"Years ago, yes," Molly continued. She fidgeted anxiously; it was obvious that she wanted to hug her son, but felt that he would run away if she took a step toward him.

Ron's eyes suddenly narrowed. "What do you mean, years ago?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged worried glances; Ron eyed them warily. "How long have I been out?"

"Well, you've been in a coma for six months," Arthur replied.

Ron continued to stare at them for a long while, gathering the saliva in his mouth, willing himself to ask the question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to.

"How many years has it been since Harry died?"

Understanding what was going on, Molly reached out and took a hold of Arthur's sleeve for comfort. Arthur kept his eyes on his youngest son.

"Eight years today," Arthur replied somberly.

Ron felt as though all the strength had been sucked out of him. His stomach calmed, his knees weakened and he slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his knees bent and his head in his hands.

"So I'm twenty six?" he asked his parents.

"Yes," he heard his mother whisper.

"What's the last thing you remember, son?" Arthur asked him.

Suddenly, a flash of blank green eyes appeared in Ron's mind. He rubbed his eyes frantically in an attempt to rub the picture from his vision.

"Son?" Arthur pressed.

Ron sighed, brought his hands down and rested his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. "The last thing I remember is Harry dying."

A long moment passed in which no one spoke or moved. Then Mrs. Weasley came forward and placed a hand on her son's shoulder. Ron looked at her sadly, his eyes filled with defeat.

"Where's Mione?"

**.X.**

Seamus Finnegan was bored. Every year, the Ministry hosted a party on Hogwarts grounds to mourn Harry or to celebrate Harry or to basically use Harry as an excuse to host a formal event. And every year Seamus showed up, not to celebrate, but to keep an eye on everyone and to make sure they were as respectful to Harry's grave as possible.

Glass of scotch in his hand, Seamus weaved his way through the crowd, glaring at everyone as if that would prohibit them from getting too drunk and too loud. He was about ready to head back toward the bar when he caught sight of an old dorm mate.

"Neville!" Seamus greeted loudly, walking over toward the group Neville was with. "Angelina. Fleur," Seamus added once he recognized the two women Neville was with. "What brings you three out here? I thought you guys avoided this thing."

Neville fidgeted nervously and adverted his eyes. "Ginny and her brothers are escorting someone who wants to pay their respects to Harry tonight," he replied softly.

"Really?" Seamus asked, glancing around as if he expected to see the three red heads standing right behind him. "Who's the mystery guest? I heard their parents are back home. Is it one of them?"

But before Neville could answer, a murmur erupted from the crowd and Seamus turned his head toward the stairs that led up to the door of Hogwarts. Standing at the top of the stairs were the three Weasleys with a beautiful young woman, clad in black dress robes, her hair very bushy and curling around her face.

The glass of scotch slipped from Seamus' fingers and fell to the ground, unnoticed.

"Hermione," Seamus whispered as the woman in question descended the stairs and walked into the crowd. He caught her eye when she drew closer, and she smiled and placed her hand on his arm for a brief moment before continuing her trek toward Harry's coffin, the three Weasleys close behind her as if they were her bodyguards.

"I can't believe this!" Seamus whispered to Neville as they – and the rest of the crowd – watched Hermione come closer and closer to Harry's coffin. "When did she…?"

"About six months ago," Neville replied.

"And Ron?"

"Is currently in a coma."

"Bloody hell."

Hermione had finally reached the coffin and was staring somberly down at it. For a long moment, everyone was still; then, Hermione reached out a hand and placed it on the coffin. She sank to her knees and the crowd could see her shoulders heaving with sobs. Suddenly, Seamus felt as though he was intruding upon a private moment, and he apparently wasn't the only one. One by one, people turned and headed toward the gates so that they may leave Hogwarts' grounds and Apparate back to their homes. Seamus took one last look at Hermione before following suit.

**.X.**

Ron Weasley was utterly confused. First he woke up to find out that he had lost eight years of his life. Then he was told that he could find Hermione at some party on the grounds of Hogwarts, yet here he was and the grounds were disconcertingly empty. He sighed, his shoulders dropping in disappointment. Where the bloody hell was she?

He was just about to head back to the Burrow when he caught site of a coffin lit up by what seemed like hundreds of candles.

_'Harry,'_ he thought, and he began to draw closer to the coffin. He plopped down at the base of it and rapped his knuckles against it.

"Hey, mate," he said softly. "You wouldn't believe the night I just had." He paused briefly, scolding himself for talking to someone who couldn't reply.

"Turns out Hermione and I were put under some charm to forget all about you. And each other," Ron continued, ignoring the absurdity of talking to a coffin. "We spent seven years living as Muggles. Can you imagine that? Me, using a micro-whats-it."

Ron chuckled almost sardonically.

"According Mum and Dad – who are alive and well by the way – Hermione remembers those eight years as a Muggle. She fully comprehends that she's twenty six. We always knew that she'd grow up before us, but not like this."

Ron sighed and leaned his head against the coffin, gazing up at the stars above.

"I have no fucking clue what I'm going to do next, mate."

**.X.**

Hermione Granger could not breathe.

It had only been a few moments ago that she and the others had returned to the Burrow. They had been ambling around the kitchen and wondering aloud whether Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed already when they heard a familiar crack, signaling that someone had Apparated into the yard. They had paused and Neville had mentioned something about Seamus when the door opened to reveal Ron.

And that's when Hermione forgot how to breathe.

He was standing in the doorway, pajama clad, with his hair falling into his eyes. He looked almost like a scared, lost puppy that had been cornered. He seemed unsure of himself.

For a long moment, there was complete silence in the kitchen, then Ginny issued a squeal of delight and threw herself into her brothers' arms, Fred and Bill following suit. Ron smiled slightly as his siblings hugged him, and then his blue eyes locked onto hers.

And suddenly Hermione was finding it difficult to stand.

Neville cleared his throat and the other Weasleys caught the gaze that Ron was sending Hermione and released their hold on him.

"We'll see you tomorrow morning," Bill said, ruffling Ron's hair as Ginny, Fred and Neville walked out into the yard, grinning happily at Ron as they did so.

And then they were alone and the kitchen seemed suddenly very large; Hermione was very aware of the space between her and Ron.

"Hermione," Ron stated at last, breaking his eyes away from her to stare out of the window.

Hermione opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her hands were shaking and for the first time ever, Hermione's mind had gone completely blank. Giving up on speech altogether, Hermione crossed the room and threw herself into his embrace. She buried her face into his shoulder and he ran his hands up and down her back awkwardly, as if he had forgotten how to touch her. She pulled away slightly and stared up at him inquisitively. He was blushing and adverted his eyes from her.

She brought a hand to his cheek and his eyes returned their gaze upon her. He looked incredibly sad and torn as he attempted to smile. She stood on tip toe and tried to kiss him, but he pulled away.

"Ron what's wrong?" she asked, taking a step back and furrowing her brow in confusion. "You're acting as though you're…"

"As though I'm what?"

"As though you're…" Hermione paused again and shook her head. She wasn't sure. There was something different about Ron, almost as if he had lost the confidence that he had gained over the years.

"As though I'm a teenager again?" Ron supplied.

Hermione stared at him quizzically; he was fidgeting and avoiding her eyes yet again.

"Ron? What's the last thing you remember?" she asked him, her mouth suddenly going very dry. Ron winced and Hermione knew that a flash of Harry's lifeless eyes had just appeared in his mind.

"Harry?" she asked in a mere whisper. Ron, who was keeping his eyes on the floor, nodded.

Hermione slowly sank into a chair at the table as the full realization of what was happening dawned on her. Physically, Ron was a fully grown man, but inwardly, he was still coming of age.

"Hermione? What are we going to do?"

Hermione gazed up at him. "We're going to keep going."

* * *

**End Author's Note:** This chapter is poorly written in the sense that if Ron had been in a coma for six months, he would not have been able to get up and move around as freely as he was in this chapter. Also, if the last thing he remembers is Harry's death, he probably wouldn't have been able to vent by Harry's grave. He probably would have either avoided it or choked up and blubbered like a little girl at it, but I wanted to have him have that talk with Harry and I didn't want it to be overly sentimental, so I ended up writing something that really didn't fit, yet I can't bring myself to change it because I like it.

Anyway, I'm sorry it took forever and a day to get this chapter out. For the longest time, I had no clue where to go with this fic, then I spent several months not writing anything at all. Anyway, this fic is not dead; I intend to finish it. As a matter of fact, as long as my muse doesn't throw something new at me for this fic, I say we have only one chapter left! Anyway, I'm off to wrap some presents. Happy Holidays, everyone!


	10. Chapter 9

**Dream On**  
_By Siriusly Amused_

**Author's Note:** Well here it is. The final chapter. I think this story could have been handled a lot better than what it was and maybe I'll take the concept and write another fic…maybe…maybe not.

**Disclaimer:** I like the song "Mr. Blue Sky".

Chapter Nine:  
_They won't make it home, but they really don't care... 'The Way' by Fastball_

It wasn't really shocking that Ron had gone off on his own to capture Bellatrix Lestrange. For the past month, ever since he woke up, he and Hermione had done nothing but fight. She was the responsible twenty six-year-old who wanted nothing more than to grasp onto normalcy, and he was the brash eighteen-year-old trapped in a twenty six-year-old's body who wanted nothing more than to continue the adventure. Of course he didn't tell her that he was going to go after Bellatrix. Of course he didn't invite her to come along. Of course.

"Hi."

Hermione looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ to see Ron standing in the doorway of The Burrow, looking tired, worn and dirty, but also triumphant and for the first time in a month, comfortable within his own skin.

"Hi," Hermione replied coolly, getting up from the table and carrying her empty breakfast dishes to the sink. She heard Ron walk over to the table and figured that he was gazing down at his own triumphant face on the front page.

"It's a bad picture of me," he commented lightly. "I tried to ask them to wait until I had showered or something, but you know how they are."

Hermione didn't reply; instead, she turned the tap on to fill the sink and clanged dishes loudly. She had nothing to say; she wasn't his mother or girlfriend or even much of a friend anymore; she had no right to reprimand him.

"How _dare_ you do something like this without telling me!" she snapped suddenly, turning from the sink to glare at him. "Do you know how worried about you I was?"

Ron gazed at her steadily, his blue eyes staring so intently at her that she felt almost as though he was reading her thoughts. "You sound like my mum," he said at last, very softly. This comment caused Hermione's fingers to grip the kitchen counter in frustration; the last thing she wanted was for Ron to view her as a mother figure, but that was easier said than done…she now had eight years on him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She tried once again, but ended up shutting her mouth, afraid that she might just reprimand him again, confirming her motherly status. Turning back to the sink, Hermione started to cry.  
"Mione, please," Ron pleaded. She felt his hand in her hair.

"Just go," she whispered through her tears. She felt Ron hesitate, but he eventually left her, ascending the stairs to his room and leaving her in her misery. She sank to the floor, her sobs increasing, her shoulders heaving. She remained there until she heard people Apparating onto the Burrow's lawn.

"Let's go find that daft brother of mine," Ginny's voice was clear and quickly approaching the door. "I'm going to hug him and then kill him."

Not wanting Ginny or anyone else to find her crying on the kitchen floor, Hermione dashed up the stairs to her room and threw herself onto her bed, where she remained for the rest of the day. It wasn't until the sun had completely disappeared from the sky that someone knocked on her door.

"Hermione, dear?" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out. "Can I come in, love?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

The door opened, a golden sliver of light shining into the room before it opened wide and Mrs. Weasley entered.

"Oh, Hermione, what's wrong, dear?" the older woman asked, coming to sit beside Hermione on the bed, placing a comforting arm around her as she did so.

Hermione rested her head on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. "Ron views me as a mother figure," she replied.

"Oh I seriously doubt that! What makes you think that?"

"He didn't tell me about his plan to go after Bellatrix. He must have thought that I'd order him not to do it or something."

"I think Ron knows that while you may plead with him not to do something, you would never stop him from making his own decisions. I think he didn't tell you about this because he figured you didn't want to go. And maybe he was trying to protect you."

"But I would have gone with him!" Hermione exclaimed. "And he knows I can protect myself!"

"Well then it just sound like you guys have a simple matter of miscommunication," Mrs. Weasley explained, smoothing down Hermione's hair comfortingly. "All couples go through periods like this."

"We're not a couple."

"You keep telling yourself that, Hermione, dear." Mrs. Weasley rose from the bed and squeezed Hermione's hand. "Goodnight."

Hermione remained in bed for several minutes after Mrs. Weasley left, contemplating all that the older woman had told her. She stared at the shadows on the ceiling. A miscommunication.

She sprang from her bed and dashed up the steps, barging into Ron's room and throwing herself upon his bed, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, a roguish smile appearing on his face.

"Listen you twat, the next time you decide to go off hunting Death Eaters, you damn well better tell me so that I can go with you!"

"What?" Ron asked, confusion and shock washing over his features.

"You once told me that you'd never let go," she whispered, her face very close to his. She felt the tears welling in her eyes again. Ron stared at her for a long moment.

"There's a group of Death Eaters living just outside of Edinburgh," he said at last.

Hermione stared at him quizzically. "How…how do you know that?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "We knew all this eight years ago, Hermione, remember? We figured out the whereabouts of most Death Eaters as we were hunting for Horcruxes. We were going to go after them after we defeated Voldemort."

Hermione raked her brain, and while she remembered figuring out the whereabouts of Death Eaters, she couldn't remember exactly where they all were.

"So when do we leave?"

"Whenever you're ready luv," Ron replied, he seemed comfortable again, his body was relaxed under hers and he was smiling roguishly up at her again. "So…you going to sleep here tonight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed," she said, getting off of him and scooting to the edge of the bed. Ron wrapped an arm around her waist, prohibiting her from leaving just yet.

"G'night, Hermione," he said softly, quickly placing a kiss upon her cheek.

"G'night," she replied in a choked whisper.

**.X.**

All in all, Hermione wasn't as bad as she thought she was. Sure her reaction time was slow and whenever she lunged out of the way of a spell, she would sometimes pull something, but really, she was a good fighter. If only Ron could make her see that.

"Bloody hell!" Hermione exclaimed one afternoon as the two were dueling in The Burrow's backyard. "I'm never going to be able to fight Death Eaters with such a horrible reaction time!"

Ron took a minute to fully appreciate Hermione's swearing, conscious of the fact that it was all due to years of him rubbing off on her, before replying.

"Hermione, you're not as bad as you think you are. You just need to get into the habit of stretching regularly so you're not so stiff."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. I'm Eighteen Again!" Hermione huffed.

"My body's still twenty six," Ron replied, inching closer to her. He placed on hand on her hip and used his other hand to extend her arm and bring it up and over her head in a stretch. Her breath hitched at the contact and he felt her body tensed. "Hermione?" he whispered.

She broke away from him. "We can't," she stated firmly, walking back into The Burrow.

"Can't what?" Ron replied, following her quickly. "Hermione!"

She turned to face him once she reached the kitchen. "Ron, we're two different people. We're not like how we once were; we just can't go back to how things were! It would never work between us!"

Ron couldn't help but smile slightly as he inched closer, backing her into a corner. She was irrational and had forgotten that their relationship had always been the way it was now; he just need to remind her.

"And…" Hermione whispered, her eyes focused on Ron's mouth. "And…"

He brought his lips to hers, savoring the familiar taste of her and the feel of her. He pulled away and smiled at her before leaning in to kiss her again, this time deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms around her.

"Ron," she whispered between kisses. He pulled away and gazed at her questioningly. She smiled. "I wasn't asking you to stop."

He smiled back. "I wasn't going to."

**.X.**

It was late at night when they exited The Burrow's back door and stepped onto the lawn. They were dressed in comfortable clothes and were more than ready to confront the Death Eaters in Edinburgh; however, they hadn't taken more than a few steps before they were stopped.

"And where do you think you two are going?" Ginny asked, strolling up to them with a devilish grin on her face, Neville, Luna and Fred trailing behind her.

"Er…" both Ron and Hermione stated, obviously not used to being questioned about their comings and goings.

"You were going to fight Death Eaters without us, weren't you?" Fred accused, a sly smile across his face.

Hermione sighed. "Listen guys, you don't have to…"

But Hermione was interrupted by several loud cracks as Seamus, Dean, Parvati and Lee Jordan Apparated in. Ron and Hermione stared at the newcomers, flabbergasted.

"You're right, Hermione; we don't have to," Ginny explained, twirling her wand. "But I seem to remember someone in fifth year saying that we're all in this together."

"You guys really want to do this?" Ron asked, gazing between his siblings and the others.

Neville smiled. "Ron, we've been waiting eight years for this."

"Dumbledore's Army is going to kick some Death Eater ass!" Fred exclaimed, giving both Dean and Seamus a high five. "Harry would be proud."

"Are you guys completely sure you want to do this?" Hermione reiterated. Ginny stared at her.

"Hermione," she said in all seriousness. "How can you think that we'd do anything else with our lives?"

Ron smiled. "Alright," he said, gazing at the others and taking out his wand. "Let's go."

* * *

**End Author's Note:** Worst ending ever, I know. This is actually my second draft of it...I just really had a hard time with it and was like, "Well, this is as good as it's going to get. It's either this or the fic will never end." I apologize. D: 


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